


The Rise of the Targaryens

by Sofdalforte



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: BAMF Daenerys Targaryen, BAMF Lyanna Stark, Cersei is crazy, Dark Daenerys Targaryen, Dark Jon Snow, F/M, Gendry Waters is a Baratheon, Jon Snow Knows Something, Jon Snow is Not Called Aegon, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, King’s landing may or may not burn, Lyanna Mormont Lives, Maybe - Freeform, Power Couple, Protective Jaime Lannister, R Plus L Equals J, Sad Rhaegar Targaryen, Targaryen Babies, The Golden company is not useless, The Prince That Was Promised, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Tyrion is jealous, the dragon has three heads, the elephants that were promised
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:40:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 52,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28086336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sofdalforte/pseuds/Sofdalforte
Summary: Takes place when Daenerys and Jon are arriving at Winterfell...S8 was a mess made by D&D, we saw they're not capable of writing the story Jonerys deserved, so I will...Jon from season 8 wasn't really Jon he was his stupid twin, who didn't know what he was doing, the real Jon is smarter and more cunning, dare I say more ambitious, so that's the Jon I want for my story.Jon accepts his heritage as a Targaryen after truths seen with his own eyes, his love for Daenerys shouldn't be, but for more that tries, he can't stay away from her.Now more than ever he knows who he is, his name is Jaehaerys Targaryen and he won't rest until house Targaryen rises from the ashes to claim what's rightfully theirs with fire and blood.This is the rise of the Targaryens...All rights to the rightful GOT and ASOIAF owners.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 65
Kudos: 157





	1. Part 1: He Needs to Know the Truth

"He needs to know the truth"

**"The truth about what?"**

"About himself.

No one knows. No one but me.

Jon isn't really my father's son."

"He's the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and my aunt Lyanna Stark.

He was born in a tower in Dorne.

His last name isn't really Snow, it's Sand."

**"It's not."**

"Dormish bastards are named Sand."

**"At the citadel I transcribed a High Septon's diary. He annulled Rhaegar's marriage to Elia.**

**He wed Rhaegar and Lyanna in a secret ceremony."**

"Are you certain?"

**"It's what the High Septon wrote in his private diary. I don't know why he'd lie."**

"Robert's rebellion was based on a lie. Rhaegar didn't kidnap my aunt or raped her.

He loved her... and she loved him.

Jon's real name is..."

**_"His name is Jaehaerys Targaryen"_ **

"He's never been a bastard.

He's the heir to the Iron Throne."

"He needs to know. We need to tell him."


	2. The Arrival

_**➿Jon➿** _

  
The cold felt different. 

The cold had always been an amiable sensation to his body. The warmth created by the furs always giving to it a sense of comfiness, as if the cold symbolized home. 

In a way it did, he grew up with the cold and chilly air surrounding Winterfell, the roaring wind shuffling his dark hair since he could remember and making it a disheveled mess of knots.

He found out that the same cold had followed him to The Wall when he joined the Night's Watch. Being farther North also implied that it would be stronger, claiming the land with more passion and fierceness, but keeping its beauty nonetheless.

He found that same chilling beauty in the man-freezing cold beyond The Wall. The cold there was even fiercer, the extreme temperatures and terrains could kill a man without putting much effort into it.

He was still young, yet he'd seen so much already, things no one his age should see —no one of any age for that matter— that's how he could tell that the cold as he neared Winterfell wasn't that familiar anymore. 

And he felt sad.

All his life he'd been Lord Eddard Stark's bastard. Even thought his father loved him, he always knew that Winterfell wasn't his home. Not really. Lady Catelyn made sure of that. 

He didn't blame her though. He knew how the sight of him caused her pain. He reminded her of the betrayal of her husband. The honorable Ned Stark that brought home his bastard from the South. He understood why she had acted the way she did. But that didn't mean he didn't hate her, she was an awful person for everything she'd done to him since he was a little boy. The glances, the punishments, the names she'd call him. His blood boiled in anger whenever he thought deeply about it. The fact that it wasn't his fault, making him even more enraged, each time.

It wasn't his fault his father had conceived a son with another woman and brought him to his household because of his honor. Loving and treating him as he did his true-born children, but nonetheless the difference was always there. 'You have to understand, Jon' everyone had said all his life.

'You have to understand that you're not allowed to eat supper with your siblings...'

'You have to understand you can't be seen when other Lords come to visit...'

'You have to understand that you're a bastard...'

Jon loved his father very much, he gave him a place to sleep and food to eat, he loved him and raised him in the best of his capabilities, still his household never felt like a home, but the cold did. It was the blanket that embraced him and secured him whenever he was sick and no one but Arya and Robb would come to see how he was feeling. 

In all of his sour memories the cold was the only thing that made him feel home, like a child, the memory of the man he was before he died. Correction. Before he was killed. Before he was reborn as a different person.

It had been some time now, but ever since he was brought back he felt different. He had been having bizarre dreams too. He didn't know what any of those meant, some of them scared him, he couldn't believe what was happening in some of them. They almost felt like visions, as if they were warnings of what would happen. This made him feel strange, as if he wasn't really the same Jon Snow, that grew up in the cold air of Winterfell, surrounded by judging eyes and hateful glares.

But over all that, what always remained the same was the cold. When they took back Winterfell from the Boltons the cold had given him that familiar feeling of comfort that reminded him of the man he had been, his happiest memories filling him with joy at the sight.

But now, that short-lived joy wasn't there anymore except for the comfort the woman beside him brought him. Now, the cold was frigid. It was dismal. As if a dangerous storm had taken away all the beauty of it, leaving behind the worst part. Leaving behind that sense of dread, of death.

Jon knew what that smell of death stuck in the cold meant. It was an unpleasant smell that wasn't perceived by the average man. It was the smell of a battlefield when the battle is won and the enemy lays on the ground lifeless, the feeling of dread when you hang traitors and their bodies twitch before they go still forever. The same thing he had felt when the adventured off past the wall to bring a wight to Cersei, as his presence, tried to take over the living. 

The Night King was near, and with him all the dead. Marching to claim more lives for his army.

The cold didn't seem to be the only thing that was different, though. The people were too. Their faces skinny and gaunt as they looked at him and Daenerys with suspicion and resentment. The look he knew all too well since childhood.

This time though it wasn't for being a bastard. It was for bringing an army led by a Targaryen to Winterfell, for bending the knee to a southern ruler and giving up being the King in the North, the tittle the northerners had given him by choice.

"I warned you, the northerners don't much trust outsiders." He had told Dany when he noticed her looking at the faces of the villagers, and how right he was. But as much a northerner as he was himself, it now seemed impossible to him to think of not trusting her.

His thoughts got slightly interrupted by the screeching sound he had barely become accustomed to, as it sounded in the distance and getting nearer by the second. The flapping of wings and the screams of the northerners that could be heard alerted him of Drogon and Rhaegal's presence as they flew over them all.

He had found out that the dragons didn't give him that sense of terror they had the first time he'd seen them. Not after caressing Drogon.

At first he'd been confused as to why he'd dared to do so, but something about it had felt extremely good and natural. He liked it. There was no denying it. It scared him though, no one should be able to touch a dragon, much less feel comfortable by doing so, enjoying it even, but Jon had already seen so much strange things, that the aspect of touching a dragon wasn't that bizarre anymore.

His thoughts then averted to Daenerys that was by his side, a Targaryen in the North, fighting alongside him against an enemy she wasn't supposed to fight, wasn't prepared to fight, that she knew nothing of when she brought her army from Essos. But an enemy that nonetheless took one of her children, and that was going to pay for doing so. 

He also thought of his siblings, the sight of Winterfell now very near reminding him of Arya and Bran, his younger siblings he hadn't seen in years, and Robb and Rickon, the brothers he'd never see again. He also thought of Sansa, he could see the face she would give him and Dany when they'd reached Winterfell. She'd be very mad, but at this point Jon didn't care. 

Sansa didn't know anything about the threat they were facing. She had never seen a White Walker, she thought of this conflict as she thought of the one against the Lannisters. He had tried to make her understand, he explained it to her. But if Jon had changed when he came back to life, so had Sansa, more dangerously though. 

Sansa had changed so much with everything that had happened to her. There had been moments when he didn't even recognize her. He was glad she had matured and found her strength, but he felt guilty for letting her be defiled and tortured in the way she was, for not being there when they married her to that monster of Ramsay Bolton. 

Really, Jon felt guilty, for everything that happened to his siblings, in comparison to them what happened to him didn't seem as important. 

He felt guilty for not being by Robb's side when he marched towards King's Landing for their father, what led to his murder at the Red Wedding. 

He felt guilty for not looking for Arya when he should have, instead he left her to fend off for herself. He knew she was capable of doing so, but she was just a girl of ten that should have lived her childhood in peace and not running around to survive. 

He felt guilty for not going back to take Winterfell from Theon when his brothers needed someone to help them. 

Still in all the guilt he felt about what he didn't do for his siblings, bending the knee to Daenerys wasn't part of it, and not even Sansa with her hard gaze could make him feel so.

'Wow Jon, always brooding.' He thought to himself.

They finally reached Winterfell, both Stark and Targaryen banner men announcing their arrival to the Lords and Ladies reunited waiting for them.

Jon followed, as did Daenerys by his side.

As he came through the door, he saw the aged face of his little brother, Bran. Not so little anymore. Sitting there next to Sansa's tall figure who eyed the queen with much suspicion.

He quickly got off his horse and strolled quickly towards him. Planting a kiss on his forehead as he had done the last time he saw him, after his accident in the tower.

"Look at you, you're a man!" He told him with glassy eyes, he felt such a happiness to see at least one of his brothers alive.

"Almost." Bran said unemotionally, startling Jon a little, that didn't remind of his brother, but it was quite reasonable he had changed during their eight years apart. He turned his gaze towards Sansa and went to hug her as well.

"Where's Arya?" He asked looking around to see if he could find her figure somewhere.

"Lurking somewhere." Sansa answered him and directed her gaze towards Daenerys who stood behind him with Ser Jorah Mormont by her side. He followed Sansa's gaze as well and as he turned Daenerys had started to walk towards them. Her steps full with purpose, turning the simple action of walking into something regal. She was a queen and she showed it without difficulty. 

"Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen." He'd announced when she reached them. "My sister, Sansa Stark, the Lady of Winterfell." He introduced, when Daenerys stood in front of the glaring girl.

Daenerys smiled warmly, "Thank you for inviting us into your home Lady Stark," she spoke, "the North is as beautiful as your brother claimed, as are you." She complimented, Sansa not bothering to erase her sneer from her face, eyeing Daenerys up and down instead. Jon found this very rude, but decided he wouldn't say anything to his sister, the North does not trust outsiders.

"Winterfell is yours, your grace." She answered finally and Daenerys' smile turned into a tight lipped expression. The tension growing quickly between the two women.

"We don't have time for all this," Bran said suddenly, "the Night King has your dragon. He's one of them now. The wall has fallen. The death march South now." He stated and the tension from before had completely been replaced by nervousness for everyone present in the courtyard.

Everyone headed for the Grand hall, where Lords and Ladies discussed the actions they'd been taking to prepare for the imminent attack and where he'd explained his reasoning as to why he'd given up his crown, he'd received what he'd been expecting, discontent. But he believed firmly he had made the right choice, and he stood by that, defending the North and the living was more important than any tittle he could be given. 

Of course the already existing discontent and discomfort had been made so much worse by Tyrion, who'd mentioned the Lannister army joining their cause. Jon knew no one would trust the Lannisters, not after everything they'd done, how treacherous they had been with the North.

Soon enough, though the ever growing tension between parties, had subsided and the meeting had been adjourned. Lords and Ladies alike heading to do their planning with their respective houses.

Jon had directly decided to head towards the Godswood, a place where he could think in peace after the pressure the day had brought up on his shoulders. Maybe even pray, he felt like they were going to need the help of the gods.

"You used to be taller." A voice he knew too well interrupted his brooding again, but he felt glad to finally hear such voice.

"How did you sneak up on me?" He asked Arya as he took her in. So grown up, not a little girl anymore but a Lady, 'not that she would like to be consider one anyway' he thought to himself.

"How did you survive a knife through the heart?" She asked him, seriousness written all over her delicate face, that didn't trick him. "I didn't." He answered, his face mirroring hers before both their faces washed away the frowns and broke into relieved smiles. 

Arya jogged towards him and he held her in his arms, just like the last time he'd seen her, so happy to be in each other's presence again. Now nearer he took her in once again and noticed the sword hanging on her belt. The sword he'd given her. Needle. 

"You still have it." He said in surprise, but pride swelling him on the inside to know she had kept his gift for so long and through so much. She smiled once again, unsheathing it. "Needle." She confirmed. 

"Have you ever used it?" He knew the most probable answer to that question but he could help himself to ask her anyway. "Once or twice." Arya said, her smile turning tight lipped, but the joy staying visible in her eyes. 

She eyed him, up and down as well, staring at his sword, Longclaw. He noticed this and smiled at her, unsheathing his companion as well. Placing it in her hands. "Valyrian steel." She pointed out.

Jon chuckled a little, "Jealous?" he asked playfully, at what she answered with a small scoff, her gray eyes twinkling with joy. "Too heavy for me."

"Where were you before?" He asked after putting away Longclaw and placing his hand on her shoulder, "I could've used your help with Sansa."

"She doesn't like your queen, does she?" Arya asked knowingly. With her brows slightly furrowed.

"Sansa thinks she's smarter than everyone." Jon commented slightly annoyed. He did what he had to do and he wanted Sansa to understand that. "You tell me about it. Ever since she was just a little pain in the-" Arya startled him with her comment. "Arya!" He warned at the use of that kind of language, she was never very ladylike but still, she was a highborn woman.

"Sorry, sorry..." She dismissed, "but I don't know if she is completely wrong not to like her." She finished, and Jon stared at her as if she'd grown another head. "You're agreeing with her?" He asked incredulously, the same girl that would fill her mattress with feces was actually siding with her. Jon chuckled, still trying to process it. "You?"

"I'm not saying that the dragon queen isn't a good queen, but I'm defending our family." Arya replied securely, her voice full of determination. "So is she. You know she's been through a lot." Jon looked at her, in that moment he realized completely what he already knew to be true but wasn't ready to accept, Arya wasn't a little girl anymore. 

"Yeah." He agreed softly. "I'm her family too." He said after some contemplation with a little sadness unintentionally entering his voice. He loved his siblings but he never truly felt like one of them. Never.

Arya seemed to notice the change in his demeanor, she reached out for him and hugged him once more, resting her head on his shoulder as she spoke.

"Don't forget that." She sighed in his arms before speaking again, "When the snow falls and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies..."

"But the pack survives."

***

After his reencounter with Arya, Jon had walked back to Winterfell, in hopes of catching Daenerys and speaking with her. To ask her what her thoughts were about the situation with the Northern Houses, but what he really wanted to do was be in her presence, he loved to be with her. Even if he wasn't completely ready to admit it. 

He had found her talking quietly to Missandei around her armies' camp; he'd asked if they could speak and take a walk, at what she agreed, much to Jon's pleasure. They started to walk in silence, a comfortable silence between each other, but the busy shouts and preparations around them kept ringing in their ears nonetheless. She'd broken that silence by speaking first. Something that had been bothering him being addressed as well. "Your sister doesn't like me." Jon contemplated this for a second. 

"She doesn't know you." He answered as they stopped and he stood in front of her to look into her violet eyes he liked so much. Dany looked at him back, her relaxed expression from before becoming serious. "If it makes you feel any better, she didn't like me either when we were growing up." 

"She doesn't need to be my friend... but I am her queen." Daenerys said looking at him fiercely, her inner strength coming with her words, something he admired very much from her, "if she can't respect me..."

Before she continued, one of her Dothraki soldiers called her attention and she turned to walk towards the riders that were coming in their direction, Jon following suit behind her. 

[In Dothraki] "How many today?" She spoke, Jon didn't have the slightest idea of what she was saying but he listened intently to it still.

[In Dothraki] "Only eighteen goats and eleven sheep." The man answered, Jon was still confused at how they left their queen with a thoughtful expression on. 

"What's the matter?" Jon finally asked as her anxiety showed in her soft features. "The dragons are barely eating." She answered before stepping away and directing herself to where the dragons were nestled. Once again he followed suit and caught up with her.

After a short walk they reached both creatures, and Jon grew happy to see them once again, even if his exterior didn't really showed it. They walked straight to them and Daenerys caressed Drogon's snout. 

"What's wrong with them?" Jon asked, trying to hide his concern, but it escaping nonetheless. "They don't like the North." Dany answered as she looked straight at her dragon child.

Rhaegal came up to Jon from behind, softly nearing him. At first Jon grew nervous by the proximity and jumped up a little, but then he stared into Rhaegal's eyes and the warmth feeling he had felt on Drgaonstone, came back to him. Comforting him.

He was so busy staring at him that he didn't notice Daenerys on top of Drogon until she spoke, "Go on," she encouraged. Jon looked at her with a face of utter confusion. "I don't know how to ride a dragon."

"Nobody does." She answered matter of factly, "Until they ride a dragon." She seemed to be enjoying this.

"What if he doesn't want me to?" Jon asked worriedly as he looked up at her and then stared right at Rhaegal again. "Then I've enjoyed your company, Jon Snow." She told him with a small playful smirk. 'Yes, definitely enjoying it.' He thought to himself.

He nodded slightly and put one foot after the other as he climbed on Rhaegal's hard, green body. A grunt escaping his lips when said dragon moved and almost tumbled Jon off of him. 

He finally managed to position himself on top of the majestic creature and looked at Daenerys who was staring at him with a curious expression. "What do I hold on to?" He asked worriedly when Rhaegal moved forward, getting ready to fly. 

"Whatever you can."

And just as he grabbed on to some of the spikes in his gigantic neck, Rhaegal lurched forward, leaving the snowy surface and up into the sky as another grunt escaped him. He could hear the noise of the wind zooming in his ears, and the flapping of Rhaegal's wings as he caught himself when he almost fell off. 

Jon flew on top of Rhaegal all over Winterfell and he felt scared, but a good kind of scared. He felt the thrill in his bones, in his blood. He liked this. Very much. 

Just as he thought he was getting the hang of it, Daenerys zoomed right in front of him with Drogon at full speed. He tried to look at her, but he soon relented from it because Rhaegal dived down following after Drogon, making him lose his cool once again and getting another yelp out of him. 

On that afternoon he had the time of his life. After the dragon ride, he and Daenerys found each other near a beautiful waterfall, where they had kissed and talked about the future they could have together. Jon didn't think once about the imminent threat that was coming for them, he had felt so happy and at ease, something he hadn't allowed himself to feel for a very long time, and he was extremely grateful he hadn't listened to Sansa and went to meet with Daenerys in Dragonstone.  
  
Dany had given him back the essence he had lost when he was brought back to life, he felt a flicker of it when he saw Sansa again, but it was soon extinguished as he witnessed Rickon's murder right in front of him. But Daenerys, she had made him feel like himself again and he loved her for that, nothing could change the way he felt about her, she had been his savior, the only reason he decided to stay alive was to defeat the Night King, but now, he had something worth fighting for. He had Daenerys of House Targaryen by his side.


	3. The Truth

➿ **** _Jon➿  
  
_

After his wonderful afternoon with Dany, Jon had decided to visit the crypts of his family, for some bizarre reason.

He had never felt welcomed down there, after all he wasn't a real Stark, and only the Lords of Winter, lied there, their statues making their presence even stronger, than their tombs ever could.

Still, he felt the need to visit his father, to ask for his council, even if he wouldn't be able to directly deliver it to him. He needed some familiar reassurance, that at this moment none of his siblings could offer. He passed many statues of the various Lords and the statue of Lyanna Stark, his father's sister who he had honored by placing in the crypts.

Jon always thought that was a very kind gesture on his father's part. From what he knew, Lyanna had been kidnapped and raped by Daenerys' brother, Rhaegar Targaryen. Who then was killed by Robert Baratheon in the legendary Battle of the Trident.

Until he met Daenerys, he never understood the reason as to why Robert Baratheon would go to such lengths for a woman, sure, he knew that Lyanna was said to be special from the whispers that were exchanged between the old folk in Winterfell that knew her, but it wasn't until he experienced love, that he realized he probably would have done the same for her.

For his Queen.

As his thoughts swam around in his head, he had finished lighting some candles on his father's tomb, when he heard something. Someone walking towards him. He immediately turned toward the noice, trying to make out something out of it. He started to carefully walk closer to realize that it was someone he knew, and very well, at that.

"Sam!" Jon exclaimed as he made out the figure of his dear friend Samwell Tarly, his sworn brother of the Night's Watch. "I'm sorry, I know I'm not supposed to be down here." Sam answered sheepishly but Jon didn't care, he was happy to see him. It had been a long time since he had seen his loyal friend, since before he left for the Citadel. He hugged him firmly.

"Were you hiding from me?" Jon asked playfully with a smile stretched across his face, because as happy as he was, he was confused and surprised to see Sam in his childhood home, he was supposed to be studying with the maesters of Westeros, to become one himself; and even more so with threat that was coming for all of them. Sam was one of the first to acknowledge the threat, he knew that everything and everyone was at risk with the White Walkers marching South.

"Of course not." Samwell answered but Jon could hear some edge in his voice. This alerted his senses immediately, ever since the betrayal he's been more on edge and more perceptive than he once was, as if another part of him he never knew had been unlocked. "What are you doing in Winterfell?" Jon asked him. "Did you already read every book there is at the Citadel?" As he kept talking, Jon noticed how on edge and nervous Sam was growing with his questions. 

"What's wrong?" He asked with concern in his voice, he wanted to help his friend if he could. "Is it Gilly? Is she alright?" Sam nodded, "She's good."

"Little Sam?" Jon asked next. Sam took a deep breath and spoke his mind. "Don't you know?" Jon felt even more confused now, but suddenly remembered something Dany had told him, still he asked, "Know what?"

"Daenerys... she executed my father and brother." Sam said with sadness written all over him. His shoulder slumped and his eyes on the verge of tears. "They were her prisoners." Jon felt for him, but now he remembered clearly about it. Daenerys had spoken about the house that lost both lords on the same day, House Tarly. At the moment he didn't realize that it was Sam's House, but even so, he thought she did the right thing, maybe being burned by dragon fire is not the best way to be executed, but none is.

Jon didn't know what he should say, he just remained emotionless. If he told him that he knew and that he agreed with her decision, Sam would get mad, if he said he didn't, then he'd be lying to his best friend. "She didn't tell you." Sam spoke and interrupted his thoughts, he would have to go with the former option.

"No, she did tell me." Jon answered softly and saw as Sam's face contracted into a small frown. "I'm so sorry, Sam." He told him and then looked in his brain for something else to tell him, "We need to end this war-" he was saying before he cut him off.

"Would you have done it?" Sam asked quietly, above a whisper. Jon didn't want to answer. He would have done it. Maybe before he died he wouldn't have, but his opinion changed about traitors when he was killed. He understood completely why Daenerys did it, she couldn't have anyone else rising against her, she had enough enemies already. He didn't want to tell Sam though, so he tried to divert the question. "Well, I've executed men who disobeyed me."

"You've also spare men." Sam said slightly angry, Jon could understand his frustration but he didn't want to lie. "Thousands of wildlings when they refused to kneel." 'That's before I was killed and betrayed.' Jon wanted to answer, but he didn't want to say that. Sam, was obviously shocked about what happened to his family, telling him that would only upset him further. "I wasn't a king." He decided.

"But you were." Sam responded, his voice firm, different from the voice he had been using before. Not wobbly anymore. "You've always been." To say that Jon was confused, would be an understatement, he was scared that Sam was on the verge of a mental breakdown. "What are you talking about? I wasn't a king, I'm not anymore I gave up my crown, Sam." Jon turned away from him, he wanted to leave, the place was starting to give him chills. "I bent the knee." He finalized.

He decided to walk away, he passed him and made his way towards the exit.

"I'm not talking about being King in the North." Sam stopped him in his tracks. What in the Seven Hells is wrong with Sam? He must be delirious, he was never anything more than a bastard. "I'm talking about the King of the bloody Seven Kingdoms." Jon stopped every thought he had and slowly turned to face him again. Sam walked closer to him. "Bran and I worked it out. I had a High Septon's diary. Bran had... whatever Bran has."

"What are you talking about?" Jon asked him again. He was more confused than ever, he didn't like to be, he wasn't a foolish boy anymore. Sam took a deep breath. Was he nervous? And then he spoke, "Your mother... was Lyanna Stark." Jon frowned at this. But before he could say something Sam continued. "And your father... your real father, was Rhaegar Targaryen." Jon took a step back, he inhaled and exhaled deeply as Sam kept speaking. "You're saying... I'm the product of... of rape?" Jon didn't know why that was the first thought that came to his head. But if it was true then not only was he a bastard but also the result of one of Westeros and his family's greatest tragedies.

"No, you've never been a bastard." Sam said quickly and Jon's world basically tumbled down. How much had he longed for those words to come out of someone's mouth, but now that someone had done it, he didn't know what to say. He was speechless. "The High Septon annulled Rhaegar's marriage to Elia Martell and wed Lyanna and Rhaegar in a secret ceremony." He explained. "You're Jaehaerys Targaryen, true heir to the Iron Throne." Still speechless. He felt as if his brain wasn't connected to his ears anymore. But then Sam made him go furious. "I'm sorry. I know it's a lot to take in. But you can be the king and not her." Jon's shock subsided and he walked closer to Sam until his face was exactly in front of him. "A lot to take in?" He laughed humorlessly. "My father was the most honorable man I've ever met... You're saying he lied to me all my life?" Jon asked incredulously. "That he let everyone treat me like shit all my life, when I didn't deserve it?"

"No," Sam answered and Jon tried to keep his cool. "Your father... well, Ned Stark. He promised your mother he'd always protect you. She died giving birth." Sam took a short pause. "And Ned did. Your mother's wish was to keep you safe, and Robert would have murdered you if he knew the truth. His rebellion was based on a lie. Your parents loved each other." Jon couldn't believe anything of what Sam had just said, this couldn't be happening. "You're the true king. Jaehaerys Targaryen, third of his name. King of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, all of it." Jon's breathing was failing him. He had so many questions dancing in his head, how could this be? He... he didn't know who he was anymore. Was he Jon Snow? Was he Jaehaerys Targaryen? Was he a bastard? Was he a prince? Was he a trueborn Stark after all?

"No, Daenerys is our queen." Jon answered as he took another step away from Sam. "She shouldn't be-" Was all he said. "What you're saying is treason." Jon interrupted him. "Not if it's the truth." Sam responded. "You gave up your crown to save your people. Would she do the same?" Jon didn't like the turn that this conversation was taking. He would never betray Dany. She wanted to be queen since she was a little girl, she was good at being queen. She freed people, she cared about people. But, if he really was a Targaryen and people found out, what would they do to her? No one would want her on the throne. They don't trust her, but they trust him. Jon couldn't believe anything that was happening. But he knew he had to protect Daenerys. He loved her. But... she, she was his... aunt. Jon thought he was gonna be sick for a moment, but as he pictured her smile, her face, it passed. Nothing could really change the way he felt about her. Certainly not his blood, even if it was wrong. He loved her too much, to let her go, maybe it was wrong or selfish, but he wasn't perfect.

"Sam." He said seriously, his voice taking a deep tone. "Swear to me that no one will know about this..." he claimed. "But Jon-" Sam started, but Jon cut him off. "Swear it Sam, you won't say a word about this unless I tell you it's alright." His face was completely serious. If someone found out.

"I swear it." Sam said finally. "But you can't let her be queen. She is not the true heir." Jon stopped him. "Not a word about this to anyone Sam. Only you and Bran know right?" He asked. Sam nodded his head grimly. "That's how it'll be unless I tell you otherwise. I just... I need time to process everything." Jon then left Sam there and walked quickly out of the crypts and towards his room. He passed everyone without sparing them a second glance. His thoughts were all over his head, giving him a headache. He had so many questions but no answers.

He arrived at his room and closed the door behind him, strangely Ghost was just lying in a corner of the room and Jon felt relieved to see Ghost a small reminder of who he was. Ghost had been the runt of his litter, he was the outcast, just like Jon had been all his life, he found himself in Ghost when he was younger, and now that he knew the truth everything suddenly made sense. He was even more of an outcast than he thought all his life. His siblings, weren't his siblings, they were his cousins. His actual siblings by blood were murdered when they were mere infants. Rhaenys and Aegon, if he remembered correctly.

And his mother, his mother was Lyanna Stark, the she-wolf of Winterfell, and she died giving birth to him. She loved him. Her last wish was for him to be safe. She wasn't a common whore that his father, no, his uncle, infatuated himself with. She was a true born lady, a very brave and honorable woman from the little he knew. He wasn't a mistake. His parents had loved each other. His father, Rhaegar, started a war because he loved Lyanna, because he loved them both, and he died for them. Just like Lord Stark died to protect Arya and Sansa. Jon wasn't a Snow. He wasn't a bastard, he was a... a Targaryen, and a true born Stark, the only thing he ever wanted to be, he had been all his life without knowing.

He had so many questions he wanted to ask his father and his mother, and his uncle, how could he keep something as grand as this a secret for so long? The fact that he never told him the truth angered and saddened him, because he was thankful for everything he did to keep him alive, even tarnishing his own precious honor, but why couldn't he say something before Jon just went to The Wall to join the Night's Watch? It almost felt as if it was a way to get rid of the threat he could have posed to the usurper and murderer Robert Baratheon if Jon had learned of his true identity, by then.

Nonetheless of his anger, what he most wanted was to know more about his parents. He felt torn between very different emotions, but luckily it was a positive one that won the battle inside of him; Jon had never felt so happy, he had parents, who really loved him, probably even before he was born. The pain he had felt as a child for being treated differently than his sibl-, no, his cousins, he shouldn't have felt it. He was a true born, a prince, considering his father. But in everyone's eyes he was nothing more than a bastard. Everyone had treated him so badly, until they needed him. When they needed him no one cared that he was a bastard, they named him king, but he had always had the right. He had more right than even Robb could ever have. 

Jon couldn't believe it. He kept repeating it in his head but he couldn't comprehend it still. He wanted to know more. More about the Targaryens, more about his mother's supposed abduction, about the Battle of the Trident, about the dragons.

In that moment he realized something else, he understood why it felt so natural to ride a dragon, it was in his blood; He was a Targaryen. But he wasn't sure if he could accept that he was, because then it would be wrong to be with Daenerys, she was his aunt, his father's sister. How would she react to this? He had to tell her. Could he still be with her even if it was wrong? How could he not? He loved her deeply, more than anything. He didn't know when his feelings for her became so strong, but he knew they were, and that scared him. 

It scared him that she would care more about the throne and not him.

He didn't care about the throne, he cared about the girl. He cared about Dany and he would give her his right to the throne if he could, just so no one would doubt that she is the queen. But Jon knew that it didn't matter that Sam swore not to tell anyone, he and Bran knew, and neither of them wanted Daenerys as queen. If a northern lord found out, they would immediately turn against her. Jon couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't let that happen. 

He would tell Daenerys and they would get through it together. 

Jon stood up from his bed, where he had been sitting for the last hour, brooding as some would say. He headed for his door but stopped when he got a hold of the knob. What if this changed their relationship? He didn't want to lose her. But if he didn't tell her and someone else found out before he'd told her... Jon shook his head and walked out of his room. He walked towards the room she had been given, but he was met with someone else before he could reach her door.

"Jon." Bran said dryly. He was sitting on his chair, a blanket on top of his legs, his eyes piercing Jon's as he turned to look at his cousin. "You know the truth."

He took a deep breath and nodded, "Aye, I do." Bran looked at him, one would think his glare was almost curious, but his face was unreadable. Just as it had been when he greeted him earlier. Jon knew what he had to tell him. "Bran, you have to swear you won't tell anyone unless I tell you to." 

Bran didn't even flinch, he sat there, his eyes unemotional. "I shall not tell anyone." He said finally. "You will, though."

Jon looked at him confused and asked, "Why would I tell you not say anything if I wanted to tell someone?" Bran looked at him and a ghost of a smile played on his lips before he answered, "I've seen it. You will tell someone and that will be your downfall as well as hers." He stared at Bran trying to process this information, Bran claimed to be the three-eyed raven or something, but people can change their fate, and Jon was not going to be the cause of his own demise. 

He decided to ignore him, but since he knew all, maybe he could answer some of his questions.

"Could I... could I ask you some questions about them? About my... my real parents?" Jon asked hesitantly. Bran looked at him and smiled slightly, but it wasn't a real smile, it was almost... forced. This new Bran gave the creeps to Jon, but when he motioned to follow him Jon went after him undoubtedly.

They reached a room Jon had never bothered to go in before, it had a couple of bookshelves full with books of all sizes. Some were spread on the table where Bran motioned for him to take a seat. Jon focused his attention on said books and saw a picture of the Targaryen sigil, his other family's sigil, a three-headed red dragon on a black field. He questioned Bran with his gaze falling on the boy, but Bran just stared back at him with his blank expression, that was starting to perturb Jon. 

"So... about those questions?" Jon made an attempt to get the situation going, but before he could utter another word, Bran stretched his arm and placed the tip of his fingers in Jon's forehead pushing it back harshly as Jon felt himself get out of his body. He couldn't feel his beating heart in his chest anymore, the colors that he saw with his eyes weren't there and he didn't move his fingers.

Until he fell.

Jon fell on the warm, hard ground, with a loud thud coming from somewhere in his body, he believed he wouldn't be able to stand up from the pain of such fall, 'Probably how Bran felt when he fell off that tower in his youth' he thought, but when he went to stand up, he felt as light as a feather, no pain coming to him either. That was a relief for him, who after standing up looked around his surroundings.

He noticed rather quickly that he wasn't in the same room in which he last found himself with Bran, he didn't even seem to be in the North, for he now saw a river of shining waters, that glistened with the sun as it warmed the lyrical place he found himself in. He had no idea of what to do, or what he was supposed to see, he decided that looking around for Bran who was responsible for whatever this place was would be the best choice, but came out with no luck.

He walked near some tall trees before he suddenly heard voices and he started to walk towards them, in hopes that he'd find Bran, but what he saw left him speechless.

He found himself staring at a young couple and what seemed to be a septon of the Faith of the Seven, Jon stayed put in his position behind a grotesque tree branch and leaned in to listen carefully to their words, and just as he did, he made out their features, his suspicions of their identities immediately clarified.

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am hers/his and she/he is mine, from this day, until the end of my days."

Both, the woman and the man said respectively, and Jon felt a tear roll down his cheek. These were his parents, Rhaegar and Lyanna, they were being married, vowing towards each other in front of the septon, their hands joined together by a piece of cloth, sealing their union with a kiss that showed pure love and affection, not violence or forcefulness. Their marriage was a choice made out of pure love, no political alliances or plots, just love.

Jon was going to walk forward to get a better look of them as they laughed between in each other. He still couldn't believe his eyes that were showing him his parents, he had suspected that Rhaegar was similar to Daenerys, a Valyrian beauty some would say, on the other hand his mother was beautiful the statue in the crypts didn't compare, and she also looked like her brother Ned, Jon had been told he looked a lot like his father as he grew up, but in reality he looked like her, like Lyanna Stark, he had her hair, and he gray Stark eyes, Jon couldn't contain his giddiness and joy as he watched them.

Just as he started making his way, Bran's voice called him out of his happy bliss.

"Now you know, they got married before you were born." Bran said still showing no emotion, Jon was starting to dislike this new Bran very much, his coldness reminded him of his encounters with the White Walkers, and those weren't pleasant encounters. "Sam told me they had gotten married but I- I never thought I'd see it with my own eyes." Jon spoke. "They really did love each other." 'And I wasn't a mistake' he added in his head.

"Yes. But Jon you were never a mistake." Bran said, surprising Jon so much that he took a step away from him. "Are you reading my mind?" He questioned.

"Jon, I am the three-eyed raven." Bran replied coldly and matter of factly. "But I don't need to be to know that's what you thought." He turned away from him and started walking on the opposite direction. Jon looked at him, wondering if he should follow, but the laughter coming from the newlyweds, was too much for him to contain himself, so he stepped towards their way. The problem was though, that as soon as Jon took his step, he was pulled out of the green and joyful site, and he was in a hill looking out at the sea, probably the Narrow Sea. It was a beautiful view, but that's not what claimed his attention, the couple sitting together on a blanket did.

Silver and dark brown hair flowed with the sea breeze, his parents again. He turned around to see if Bran was somewhere in sight, but found himself alone with them. He walked towards them, and he stood to the side of them, he could see his faces better than when they'd gotten married now, the smiles were the same though. "No! That would be an awful name!" His mother exclaimed as she smacked a laughing Rhaegar. Jon's attention was then directed towards her huge and swollen stomach, she was pregnant with him!

"You are probably right... Maegor it's not the best name for a Targaryen." He sighed stopping his laughter. Jon found himself agreeing, he was glad that was not his name, he didn't want the same name as Maegor the cruel. Lyanna just chuckled, but then turned serious again.

"Come now, Rhae... If it's a girl, it'll be Visenya, and what if it's a boy?" She asked him, his father beamed at her. "It won't be a girl, I've seen him. It's going to be a boy and he will look just like you, he will have raven hair, but his eyes I never see, I do not now why." She huffed at him in slight annoyance, "Well, then tell me dear husband, what is this child going to be called? Because we've been trying to figure it out for a while now." Jon smiled at her, even if she couldn't see him. She reminded him so much of Arya. His father grabbed her face and placed a kiss on her lips.

"Jaehaerys." He said. Lyanna smiled at him, she seemed to like the idea. "Jaehaerys?" She questioned with a raised eyebrow, but keeping her playful stance.

"Yes, after the greatest Targaryen king..." He nodded, and so did she. She smiled before her eyebrows furrowed in thought. Rhaegar caught on to that. "What is it, my love?" He asked softly.

"Nothing, just thinking that my brothers would find it funny... A Stark with a Targaryen name." She chuckled, but there was a sadness in her comment. His uncle and grandfather must have already been killed by his other grandfather. What a complicated family he had! "You will see them again." Rhaegar reassured her, as he took hold of her hand. "I'll pardon your brother, when Robert's defeated." He said, but he sounded unsure. "Don't talk about that brute." She sucked in a deep breath, trying to conceal a sob, Jon noticed.

"Please don't go, Rhaegar... you have to be with me when I give birth to our son." She told him. He glanced at her sadly. "I have to... What kind of man would I be if I let my men into battle without me? What would that tell to our child, that's ok to be a coward?" He explained and she grimly nodded at him, "I know..." she whispered.

"I will come back to you... I love you, the both of you." He answered as he moved their intertwined hands to her belly. Jon felt his eyes sting with tears, this was such a sad moment, he knew that he wouldn't come back.

"We love you too..." she whispered, before Jon was thrown somewhere else again.

He found himself in a drier place, beautiful, adorned with a big tower, that overlooked the sea, he checked his surroundings, and surprise, surprise, the hill from before stood to the side of the rocky building where he also noticed tall knights standing guard. One of the men was sitting on stone, where he sharpened a beautiful milky white sword, he assumed was his, with a rock.

"Ser Arthur Dayne." Bran came out of nowhere again and spoke. "You were supposed to come after me, when I started walking. I see you found yours way somewhere I hadn't been before, that's new."

"Really? I'm glad I did then, I heard my parents having a conversation, they talked about me, my mother she was pregnant and-" but he was cut short from his words as he and Bran heard horses approaching. Ser Arthur Dayne, Ser Oswell Whent and Ser Gerold Hightower stood bravely and proudly, against his uncle —the man who protected but lied to him, the one who let him be treated as a bastard all his life— and his companions.

Bran and Jon walked towards them to hear what they were saying, "Why weren't you there to protect your prince?" He heard young Ned Stark ask.

"We are protecting our prince." The knight answered, Jon suddenly understood what he meant. "Prince Rhaegar wanted us here."

Ned looked confused by this, but continued, "Where's my sister?" he asked angrily. Ser Arthur sighed, "I wish you good fortune in the wars to come." as he put on his helmet, "and now it begins." he said before unsheathing both his shining swords.

"No." Ned Stark replied with his thick northern accent, "Now it ends." just before he and his fellow northerners unsheathed their swords too. The odds didn't seem to favor the knights, but Jon had heard stories of the legendary Ser Arthur Dayne, the best swordsman who ever lived. Jon knew he could take them, but somehow he didn't, and his fathe- his uncle, beat him, he grew up with the story of how he bested the Sword of the Morning and now he was finally going to see how he did it.

The battle commenced, they all fought valiantly, Ser Oswell Whent was killed first and Ser Gerold Hightower was killed by his uncle with a sword to the throat, Jon lowered his head in respect to both knights who died protecting him, just before raising it again to see how Ser Arthur was fencing off four northern fighters. Ser Arthur looked around himself as the men surrounded him and moved around in the form of a circle, they thought they had him cornered, but he killed all of them except for Ned, who turned to face him and lunged for him with his sword. 

Ser Arthur parried excellently. "He is better than Lord Stark." Jon pointed out to Bran. "I know." Was his answer. The knight disarmed the Northman rather quickly and had both his swords pointed at him, about to struck him down, but before he could, the pain of a backstabbing wound made by a man he'd seen as a child, Holland Reed, put him on his knees in front of the young Stark, the latter ending his pain with a clean cut across his armored chest. 

Jon felt angered about his uncle's actions, he realized that maybe Eddard Stark hadn't been as honorable as everyone believed. How could he have claimed the glory of having bested the legendary Kingsguard when in reality he had been stabbed in the back by another? And what angered him even more was that all Ser Arthur, Ser Oswell and Ser Gerold had been doing was protecting him and his mother.

As the young Ned Stark stared at the body of the Sword of the Morning, lying lifeless, he as well as Jon, was startled by a scream coming from the tall tower.

His uncle looked at the tower and headed that way, Jon was about to follow him but he got thrown somewhere else by Bran, again. He stood in a room, the door opening widely, Ned Stark came in and he heard a gasp. "Ned." Jon looked around the room and focused on the bed, the blood soaked bed and the woman lying there, Lyanna, his mother, the one he'd seen just moments before on the hill. He walked towards her but his uncle was already kneeling beside her.

She was panting and sweating, her lower body was in a pool of blood, he realized that she looked as if... as if she'd just given birth. She'd just given birth to him.

"Is that you?" She choked out, her breathing heavy. Sweat running down her forehead, Jon felt as if he had been crushed by a mountain, he felt so much guilt in that moment that he barely caught himself when he kneeled next to his uncle near his mother. "Is that really you?" She asked, placing her delicate hand on his face. "You're not a dream?"

"No, I'm not a dream." Young Ned said, holding her face. "I'm here." She chuckled difficultly, and gave him a smile. "I've missed you big brother." Jon felt a tear trickling down his cheek at the sight. He couldn't believe that this is how his mother died. "I've missed you too." His uncle told her, she was fighting to keep her eyes open.

"I want to be brave..." she said with tears in her eyes. "You are." Her brother told her, caressing her face and wiping her tears, but she kept going, "I'm not. I don't want to die..." she said.

"You're not going to die." He said as he looked down to where she was bleeding out. His gaze then landed on the wet nurse that stood by the door. "Get her some water! A maester!" But the woman didn't move, instead she just wore an expression of pity, and Lyanna called to her brother again. "Listen to me, Ned." She pulled him close to her face, Jon pulled himself closer to hear what they were saying as well. "Rhaegar and I... I loved him, he loved me, he saved me... but we destroyed the kingdom..." her tone breaking, Ned's eyes widened in shock at the revelation. "I'm sorry... but my boy... our boy... his name... is Jaehaerys Targaryen..." she whispered. "If Robert finds out, he'll kill him... You know he will... You have to protect him... Promise me Ned... Promise me..." she kept saying. His uncle looked confused, until he heard it, heard him. The cry of a baby, Jon moved as the wet nurse placed him on his uncle's arms. He was frozen in place, that baby was him.

"Promise me Ned..." Lyanna kept saying. "Promise me..."

"I promise..." He answered. "I promise you..." She smiled as she looked down at her baby. Her hand on his small head. "I love you..." she whispered as the light in her eyes faded away and her hand dropped on top of her chest. Her gray eyes closed never to open again. Jon who was kneeling next to the bed moved closer when his uncle stood up. "I'm sorry..." he cried, as he held her hand tightly and placed his head next to hers. "I'm sorry... mother."

Bran walked closer to him, he placed a hand on Jon's shoulder comfortingly. "Now you know." He said. "But you still have to see something." And just like that the heat that his mother's body still gave, was gone and he was standing in the middle of a battlefield.

Men killing men, but between the bloodbath, Jon made out the mane of long, silver hair he recognized from the small wedding ceremony by the river amd the conversation on the hill. His father, Rhaegar, wearing his black armor with a red dragon gleaming as he rode, fought and slashed through men, until he was met with another man, tall and muscular, that Jon couldn't have believed it to be him if someone had told him so.

Robert Baratheon with his stag helmet and his war hammer, was ready to lunge at his father, and after he missed a couple of times, in the end he managed to hit Rhaegar straight in the chest where the rubies encrusted in his armor broke into a million pieces. Jon ran towards him, as his body fell and hit the water he was previously standing in, he kneeled next to him and through his helmet saw his dark indigo eyes, darker than Daenerys' but beautiful nonetheless, as he stared at him, Jon saw that Rhaegar's brows furrowed, could he see him? Jon didn't know, but what he did know, was that his father's last words were both his and his mother's names. "Lyanna... Jaehaerys..."

Jon remained there again, looking as his father's eyes closed to never open again, but instead of feeling sadness, like he had with his mother, he only felt anger, anger flowed through him as he turned to see Robert Baratheon cheering how he had 'killed the dragon prince'. The Targaryen loyalists were scattering, running for their lives all around as the usurper laughed at the fallen prince. Jon was fuming, his blood was boiling hot, he had no idea where all this sudden anger had come from, but the only thing he wanted in that moment was to smash Robert's face on a rock and punch him until no one could recognize him.

That man had killed his father, he'd lied about him, dishonored him, he'd rejoiced in the death of his siblings that were no more than babes. He'd called himself a king, after he'd killed the real king, his father, who had only wanted to protect him and his mother. Jon's life as a bastard was all because of that man. Jon stood up and grabbed Longclaw that hung on his hips still, he was ready to take off and stab right there. He didn't care if he couldn't feel it, in that moment, he only wanted to kill him. Jon had never wanted to kill someone, he hated killing, but he wanted to kill Robert Baratheon, a man that was already dead, a man that was killed by a wild boar.

But Jon couldn't seem to remember any of these facts, as he took off running, however before he could plant his sword on the usurper's back, he was back in the small room with Bran no longer standing but sitting on his chair. "Jon." Bran called him. "Calm down." Jon could only see red, the image of his father falling off his horse printed on his mind, Robert laughing loudly as his body lay there, lifeless.

"Calm down?" Jon asked outraged. "How could I calm down?" He yelled, not caring that probably everyone was asleep in Winterfell by then. "Lower your voice, Jon." Bran replied, his face still blank.

"Don't call me that." Jon told him. "That's not even my real name. Your father gave me the name of a man that helped kill my real father." He continued, his anger effervescent on his blood. A fire raging through his body as he spoke. "Your father helped kill my father, alongside that usurper, when the only thing my father wanted was to protect me and my mother. He killed the knights that were supposed to protect us... and lied about it." Jon stood up and paced the room furiously, never breaking eye contact with Bran. "Then again, he lied to me, my whole life. He let me go and take the vows of the Night's Watch knowing that I was the rightful heir... knowing that I was one of the last Targaryens... knowing how much I wanted to know who my mother was..." Jon's words were sharp and heavy like a sword, Bran stared at him without worry and with a look of accomplishment on his face. "So don't tell me to calm down, after showing me the truth." He took a deep breath and his anger lowered, his pulse slowed, but the determination that now coursed through his veins wasn't gone, in fact, it was there to stay. "I thought... I thought that after discovering this, I wouldn't know who I was, that I would feel lost, and for a moment I did. But not anymore. Now, more than ever I know who I am."

"I am Jaehaerys Targaryen, not Jon Snow. Heir to the Iron Throne, not the bastard of Winterfell. Son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen, not son of Ned Stark and a common whore. And I will not rest until Daenerys and I sit on the Iron Throne and House Targaryen regains its glory once again. We will take it, we will take it with fire and blood if necessary. Mark my words Bran." Jaehaerys Targaryen pronounced, and purposefully left the room. Bran looked at the door, the door through which Jon walked in, but Jaehaerys walked out.


	4. The Gifts

_**➿Jon➿  
  
** _

Jon was trembling. He was trembling with anger. His blood boiling, he could feel the heat on his body, almost wanting him to throw off his body the fur cape he constantly wore. He knew that he had to calm down, but it seemed impossible to him. His thoughts were all scrambled in his head, he didn't seem to be able to think straight. He only saw red.

After that heavy conversation with Bran, he didn't want to talk to Daenerys anymore, he wasn't in the right mind to do so, not after all he'd seen. The images of both his parents dying was too much for just one night. He had no idea where all those words had come from, but he knew that they were true. He felt as if a switch had flipped inside of him.

He had accepted who he was, which was a surprise for him, he never thought he'd go by any other name but Jon Snow, even after all those times he wanted to be Jon Stark, he knew he wouldn't be legitimized, now he really knew why. Now he knew that Jaehaerys was his real name, the name both his parents chose for him, and also it didn't seem fair to honor one of the men who helped kill his father by using his name. But he was torn, it would be difficult for him not to identify himself with Jon, with that name he'd grown up, and died, then come back; it had been how he'd identified himself since always, but for his parents, he would try.

Now more than ever, as he walked towards his chambers again, he thought about everything he'd told Bran, it was all true, he was going to help Daenerys get that throne, House Targaryen, his rightful house, would sit again on the Iron Throne, he would make sure of that, but he had to be careful. He had to plan everything perfectly, he knew how many people would take advantage of the information.

Sansa probably the first one of all. No, he couldn't tell her, and he couldn't tell Arya either, Jon knew that she would probably side with Sansa after their conversation earlier. She wasn't sure about Dany, she didn't trust her like he did and Arya had changed much from the little girl he once knew. The Stark siblings all think their family is at risk, they would try to end anyone who seemed like a threat, he wouldn't let them, because they may be his cousins, but Daenerys is his family too now.

He knew he had to be very, very careful, and he would be. He'd made the choice, his father's sacrifice for him and his mother wouldn't be in vain.

He reached his chambers and felt glad to see that Ghost was still there, resting. He wasn't going to leave him, he still had Stark blood, even if as of the moment his blood felt more that of a dragon, it boiled still, even if his anger had subsided. He felt weird, he had this strange feeling of heat wrapped all around him and he wasn't sure he liked it.

He took a deep breath to clear his head and undress calmly, after he'd done that he got into the warm furs that covered his bed, tiredness written all over his face, but as much as he tried he couldn't sleep, those stunning images of his family playing in his mind as soon as he closed his eyes, now he understood those strange dreams he'd also been having, they were scenes of the past, scenes of the tragedy that succumbed his family, and now they all fit, as he saw the glimpses together.

***

Jon was still awake as he saw the first rays of sunshine peak through the thick curtains hanging over his windows. 

He'd tossed and turned all night, to his misfortune, he was very tired but his mind wouldn't let him close his eyes. Whenever he managed to sleep that night, he'd wake up with a jolt five minutes later.

He got up from his bed that and decided on going to the crypts to look at the statue of Lyanna Stark as his mother for the first time in his life. Another step into the process of fully accepting himself as her son and not his uncle's. He wasn't sure what he would do after though, maybe he'd spar for a bit in the courtyard or he'd eat something in the kitchens, still, for now all he wanted was the comfort that her stoned face could give him, to help him keep in mind the face she wore when she got married, that bright smile and her twinkling gray eyes as they looked upon his father's indigo ones.

As he left his chambers with his sword on his hip and his coat on his back, he remembered that he still had to have his conversation with Dany, he was scared about that, he had no idea how she would react, and that had been another one of the reasons for his unease in the night, but his sleepless night had given him time to also realize that even if they shared blood, he wouldn't give up on their relationship, because when he met her was the first time he thought about actually having a future with someone by his side. He hoped that Daenerys would think similarly.

How he hoped.

Jon finally reached the crypts, he went straight towards his mother's statue, he looked right at her and noticed that it didn't show her beauty enough. 'The sculptor probably never saw her' he thought. He was glad he'd managed to see her at least once, even if he wasn't really there. As he stared at her, he decided to sit in front of her, putting his back against the opposite wall. "Mother... I'm sorry you had to die because of me." He whispered. He put his head down in thought, and he stayed there for a good hour probably, just thinking of his new reality, how much it had changed in a matter of hours.

After a while, the chatter, clinging of swords and pacing coming from outside the crypts told him that life in Winterfell was picking up for the day, that ended his brooding session, so he stood up and walked towards his mother again, where he reached for her and put his hand on her stoned face. He caressed it and heaved a deep sigh, he put his head on her shoulder, wishing to all the gods that she were bone and flesh.

Jon's attention got peaked by a slab of stone that stood out from the rest, it looked as if it could be moved from where it rested, he couldn't make it out from where he was looking from, but as he crouched down and stared at it he noticed the sigil that was slightly marked on the stone.

A three-headed dragon.

He immediately tried to move the slab, he used all his strength as he fidgeted to get it out from where it was encased. The stone moved and creaked as it started to give out. Until he finally pulled it out with a hard noice thumping all over the Stark crypts, a small cloud of dust coming along too. Jon was much too curious, as soon as the dust dissipated, he peaked his head towards the inside of the hole.

He saw an old piece of parchment sealed with the Targaryen sigil, and another one with a Stark direwolf. Not only were those there, but another dusty object rested neatly on the floor.

Jon was more interested in the letters, suspecting of who could have written them. The thought made his heart do cartwheels in his chest.

He opened the one with the Targaryen sigil first. He carefully unrolled the parchment and could make out the writing on it. He started reading and as he did, his eyes couldn't keep in his lonely tears.

> 'To Jaehaerys...

> Son, if this letter has come to your hands, that means I have failed to keep you and your mother safe as well as my duty of turning the realm into a place you could grow up peacefully. For that I am truly sorry... I'm sorry you had a hard life for bearing my name, but know that I'm proud of you.

> I'm sure that at this moment, you've heard so many stories about how you've come to be, but please don't believe the atrocities people have to say about me and your mother. Believe only her, my Lyanna. I love her with all that I am, she is the light of my life and she will always be, even after I'm gone. Just as you were, ever since we found out about you.

> I want you to know that I love you, I don't know you yet, but I do. I've seen you in my dreams. You're my son, you're a dragon and a wolf, be it. You're strong and you'll have the fierceness and kindness of your mother.

> I have left a gift for you which I hope gets to your hands, many people would like to claim it, since it was very difficult to find, but I had a little help from a wise maester. It will serve well to you and your heirs.

> I also left for you, my most precious possession, I've seen you will be a warrior, but I hopeyou find it in you to have a musical ear as your father. Not many men feel proud to play the harp, but I always did, so it is my greatest pleasure for you to have it, even if just as a relic. Take care of it for me, will you?

> Jaehaerys, I must go, but remember to be strong, to be a dragon.

> Everyone said I was the last dragon, but that is a lie. You're the prince that was promised, not me, and you will take care and save the realm for the generations to come, again I'm sorry I couldn't.

> You're the last dragon, my son.
> 
> I love you, now and always...

> Your father,
> 
> Rhaegar Targaryen.'

Jon clutched the letter tightly but carefully as not to crumple it or tear it. He read and reread over it a hundred times, each time he felt more saddened. He wish he could have met his father. His real father. Why had life been so unfair with him and his family? Robert Baratheon started a pointless war for the love of a woman who didn't even love him back. Jon felt his anger returning once again, but the parchment on his other hand reminded him that there was something else to read. He carefully opened the second letter just to find like in the first one, some words written over it, a calligraphy much neater than that of his father's.

> 'To my sweet boy, Jaehaerys...

> My child, I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you, but I would have chosen you over myself a thousand times. My son, you're the best of both your father and I, the best of both Stark and Targaryen, the best of both dragon and wolf. Whatever you do, know that I am proud of being your mother.
> 
> If you read my words, know that I never wished to leave you alone, I hope my brothers helped you into becoming a man, and that you've been safe from those who could harm you because of your name.
> 
> I love you so much already, we both do. You will be a strong man. Your father's seen it and I can feel it.
> 
> Oh! there's so many things I'd like to tell you now that I have the chance, be brave and trust your instincts, for they are those of a wolf , who is careful and measured, but let your heart guide you as well. Love is the greatest asset one can have, and I'm sure you will have lots of it, my little king.

> Believe in yourself Jaehaerys, you can accomplish anything that you put your mind to, you're my son, my everything, and whatever you do I'm sure will be the right choice, because you're good. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. After all, you're your father's son.

> Remember that I'll always be watching over you., as will your father and sadly both your siblings, Aegon and sweet Rhaenys. 

> When in doubt, look at the gift I have left you, and know that whatever your choice is, your mother will always be on your side.

> I love you my little dragon-wolf... you will be the greatest king the Seven Kingdoms have ever had.

> With so much love for my boy,

> Lyanna Targaryen of House Stark.'  
>   
> 

Jon's tears hadn't stopped at any moment, and he didn't care in the slightest. He had been careful to wipe them before they could fall and smush his mother's or father's handwriting, but they were there nonetheless. He couldn't believe that he had read his parent's words, and to be able to have some sort of physical thing from them made him very happy. After some deep breathing, he'd calmed down and managed to re-roll both letters, putting them in one of his pockets.

He then remembered, the gifts.

He peaked once again into the hole in the wall, and took the biggest object in it, a sword from the looks of it. Carefully kept in a beautiful dark sheath, with its hilt sticking out, he appreciated the flawlessly of the sword. He was impressed with how light it was, immediately suspecting what kind of sword it was, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight that flooded his eyes when he unsheathed the sword. He recognized the blade as soon as he did.

Dark Sister rested in his hands, the fabled hand-and-a-half longsword of Valyrian steel was stunningly beautiful, the red, bright ruby glinting on top of the hilt as its pommel, the cross guard formed of two shining dragon heads, the refined and precise forging of the blade as it gave off a sense of antiquity, left him breathless. He had never seen a sword more flawless, his own, Longclaw had much to resent to Dark Sister in terms of beauty. When he was done admiring it he sheathed it again and once more peaked into the hole in the wall.

There was a bigger object covered by a cloth that rested against the stone, but he took the smaller cloth that was closer to him, he opened it in his hands to reveal a pin, a Stark sigil made of silver by the looks of it, was conserved in the cloth, 'that's what my mother meant by look at the gift I left you' he thought, and carefully held it in his hand as he examined it closely. He covered it again with the aged cloth after a little while and put it in the pocket where he had placed both letters.

Lastly he moved on to the last item, his father's greatest possession, his silver harp. It was covered in a cloth just like his mother's pin, but this cloth was dark in color, black with the bright red of the Targaryen three-headed dragon up front. He removed it and smiled at the image of the man he'd seen wearing armor at the Trident, playing this delicate instrument. He ran his fingers through the chords, he'd never played the harp but he'd taken enough music lessons as a child to know what to strum and what not to.

It seemed like a strange quality to everyone when he was little, not many people in the North were musicians, much less the Starks, Robb and Theon always found it funny that he liked music so much, but his uncle always let him take the music lessons, he'd tell him that he could be a musician if he wanted, for he was very talented, but Jon would always deny that he'd posses any talent at all. 'You know, Jon, that reminds me of someone I met a long time ago... he too would deny he had any talent even if we could all see it clear as day...' Ned Stark had said, and now as he ran his fingers through the silver harp he could think that maybe his uncle was referring to his father.

His brooding got cut short when he heard steps coming his way. He suddenly grew nervous, what was he supposed to do with Dark Sister and the harp? How could he explain where they'd come from to anyone that might be coming here? He fiddled with the items to try and stuff them back into the hole, but he stopped as soon as he heard his name being called by Dany.

"Jon? Are you in here?" Daenerys asked as her steps grew louder. Jon took a deep breath and realized that this was the perfect moment for him to tell her the truth about himself, about his family. He stood up from where he sat near his mother's statue, and came out into Daenerys' view. As always she looked beautiful, her silver hair braided tightly and intricately, her eyes lighting up when they met his from across the room. "Over here!' He called.

"Where have you been? Everyone's been looking for you." She walked towards him, but when she was close enough she stopped and her eyes widened. "Jon, what's happened to your eyes?" She questioned as she examined him. "My eyes? What 'bout them?" Jon asked, confusion laced in his tone.

"Th-they're purple instead of gray! How's that happened?" She looked at him as his face contorted in surprise, and instinctively reached for his face, rubbing his eyes, as if confirming they were still present. Dany looked at him expectantly, hoping for a logical explanation, even if he couldn't think of anything logical that could explain the sudden change in his eyes. That was gonna be a problem if he didn't want anyone to find out about the truth. Lucky for him, Daenerys wasn't just anyone, she was his Dany, his love.

"Dany, I have something very important to tell you. You will think it's crazy, believe me I thought that as well when I was told, but I saw proof about what I'm about to say..." he started, Daenerys' face contorted into one of interest and she gave him a slow but firm nod motioning for him to continue. "Alright. Here goes..." he whispered to reassure himself.

"You know the stories about... about how your brother Rhaegar kid-kidnapped Lyanna Stark? This being also the cause of Robert's Rebellion?" He asked and with her nod he continued. "Well, his rebellion... his rebellion was based on a lie. Rhaegar didn't kidnap Lyanna. They were in love, they ran away together." He took a deep breath. "Rhaegar annulled his marriage to Elia Martell so they could be married in secret and... and they had a son." Her eyes widened at this.

"Rhaegar died at the Battle of the Trident and then Lyanna died giving birth to him, in Dorne, but her brother, Ned Stark had found the place where she was, the Tower of Joy. He arrived as she was dying, she made him promise to protect her son from Robert Baratheon, who would have killed him if he knew... so he... he took the boy and... and he made him pass as his bastard son..." Jon ended, his eyes sad as he remembered the images in his head. Daenerys looked as if she'd seen a ghost, her eyes were threatening to spill tears. But she didn't look mad or worried or disgusted. She looked glad?

"Dany... my name, my real name is Jaehaerys Targaryen..." He whispered softly, and as he did a single tear shed from her eyes. She smiled brightly at him. Jon was a little surprised, but happy nonetheless. Then she spoke, "All this time, I thought I was alone, but you... you're blood of my blood." She reached for his hand which he gave her gladly. "I'm not the last Targaryen." She whispered to herself.

"Maester Aemon once said that 'a Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing' but you're not alone anymore, Dany. You never were, and you never will be. Not as long as I live." Jon reassured her as he stepped closer to her, carefully. "But... what about us?" He asked, his brow creasing in worry.

"What about us?" She asked as she took a step closer towards him. "You don't find this... weird? You... you are my... my aunt." Jon asked putting care into his words and moving his hand up to her soft and delicate face. "Jon, I love you, and the fact that we share blood won't change that..." she smiled softly at him. Jon's worry dissipated as quickly as a sword can swing.

"I love you too, Dany... I worried that you would think of this improper." He smiled at her, but her brow furrowed into a frown. 'Oh no.' He thought. "What's the matter?" He asked her, barely above a whisper.

"If Rhaegar is your father, then that means... you're the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, not me..." she whispered too. She tightened her hold in his hand, Jon knew what he had to do, he'd been thinking about it all night, now he would do it. "No, Dany. We are. I would never want to be king if I are not the queen. You're my queen now and always. No one knows about my true parentage, and no one will know until it is too late for them to question your right to the throne." Jon spoke firmly and full of determination, the same determination he had when his blood boiled hot. When the dragon had awoken in him. That would probably explain his eyes.

"Marry me, Dany. We can do it, after we defeat the dead, we will sit on the Iron Throne as equals. You have as much right to the throne as I do, even more so. Please..." Jon pleaded, Daenerys looked more sure than before and she smiled throughout his speech, she nodded her head vigorously.

"Yes, Jon. We will do it together. Together we will break the wheel...we will bring peace, freedom, justice and security to the realm and House Targaryen will rise." She smiled brightly, her eyes shone like two amethysts. "We shall get married before the dead arrive at Winterfell." He couldn't contain his smile, he picked her up and spun her around as she giggled with his antics, it was a rare sight to hear her giggle, and that made him even more happy.

Once he'd put her down. he'd caught her lips in his and kissed her passionately, just like he'd done the afternoon before by the waterfall. "Dany, could you... could you use my... my real name when we're alone? It's just that... my namesake Jon Arryn was one of the men that helped kill my father, I don't think it's right to use it anymore." He told her softly. He knew that it would be hard for him to be called something other than Jon, but it was the right thing to do. Daenerys noticed the change in his demeanor and caressed his cheek with her petite hand softly.

"Of course, Jaehaerys." She affirmed and hugged him once more. He hugged her back, in silence. But she spoke again, "What's that?" she broke the hug and directed her attention towards the gleaming pommel of Dark Sister. Jon immediately went to pick it up and show it to her.

"This is Dark Sister?" She exclaimed when he unsheathed it in front of her. She examined it closely and her eyes shone with awe. It was a legendary sword in their family after all. "But... but how? I thought this one and Blackfyre were lost..." Jon nodded at her. "I thought so too, but my father and my mother... each of them wrote me a letter." He passed Dark Sister into Dany's hands and took the letters from his pocket to show them to her.

"He left me the sword, he said that a wise maester helped him, I suspect that was Maester Aemon." Jon smiled at the thought of Maester Aemon, how much he'd help shape him into who he is now and they happened to be family all along. "He also left me his harp."

"Ser Barristan told me that Rhaegar loved to sing, he said that women weeped whenever he sang and played his harp. That he'd sing through the streets of Kings Landing and that people would give him money for it. He'd give to the poor everything he'd earned..." Daenerys told him and he felt himself smile. "I did not know that. He sounds like a great man. I'm proud to be his son."

"I'm sure both Rhaegar and Lyanna would be proud of whom you've become." Dany reassured him and gave him the sword as she turned and reached down for the silver harp. "I hope so..." he mumbled. She gave him the harp as well and placed her hand in his fore arm. "I know so."

"This has been a bizarre morning don't you think?" Dany asked him with a small chuckle. "You've no idea," He responded. "But, why has everyone been looking for me? You said so when you found me here."

"Oh right... with everything you've told... It slipped my mind." She said, but her whole demeanor changed she wasn't carefree Daenerys anymore, she was the Dragon Queen now. "Jaime Lannister has come, we've apprehended him and he's requested an audience for he has an urgent message to share with all of us."

"Then, we must go immediately, my queen. The soonest we are done, the soonest we can plan our marriage ceremony before the heart tree and the old gods." Jon affirmed as he motioned with his arm for her to take it. He'd strapped Dark Sister to the other side of his belt and held the silver harp inside the Targaryen cloth with his right arm, Dany on his left. Like that they walked out of the crypts after one last glance at his mother. At the entrance to the crypts two unsullied flanked them keeping their distance.

"I must go and put this in my chambers, there's no way to explain the appearance of Dark Sister without unveiling the truth," He whispered as he smiled at her and kissed her hand, for they were in the courtyard surrounded by curious eyes. "I shall see you soon, my queen..."

"And I you, my king..." she whispered back and walked past him towards the great hall, her unsullied following diligently. Jon shook his head and quickly made his way towards his chambers, luckily he managed to do so without any surprise encounters. His mind was running wild, though. How would he explain the sudden new color of his eyes, it seemed impossible to him even after knowing the possible cause, but after all he had the blood of Old Valyria, powerful blood. Not for anything could he ride a dragon. Blood was a powerful thing, and Targaryen blood was even more so.

When he reached his chambers, he hid his new possessions, the letters hidden neatly in a drawer along with the pin, he'd figure out later where to put it in his coat, the sword and harp placed inside a locked trunk, so if someone went for some reason snooping around they'd find nothing. Hurriedly he arrived at the great hall, where everyone seemed to be impatient.

The Lords looked mad and annoyed by the presence of the Lannister knight in the middle of the room, or perhaps it was the fact that everyone was there and he was late. He'd find out eventually. As he walked in, they all quieted down and stood up for him, hopefully no one had noticed his eyes yet. It was only a matter of time until they did though. Sansa and Dany remained seated in the front table, he made his way towards them and when he reached his chair he acknowledged the Lords, "Forgive me my Lords, for the delay."

Before he sat down Sansa stood up, "Now that the Warden of the North is present we shall start." She informed and then simultaneously sat down. The lords following suit. Daenerys then, heaved a sigh and started talking as she threw daggers at the Kingslayer, "When I was a child, my brother would tell me a bedtime story about the man who murdered our father, who stabbed him in the back and cut his throat, who sat down on the Iron Throne and watched as his blood poured onto the floor. He told me other stories as well, about all the things we would do to that man once we took back the Seven Kingdoms and had him in our grasp. Alas that day has come. Hasn't it?" Everyone in the room remained quiet, no one dared to look at her, therefore not looking at him either which was good.

"Your sister pledged to send her army North, but I don't see an army. I see one man with one hand. It appears your sister lied to us..." Dany continued, her gaze threatening and cold, with no emotion in her voice as she spoke. "She lied to me as well," Jaime answered. "she never intended to send her army North." In the hall, whispers were heard from the northerners, Tyrion had paled slightly. He then went on to explain in what consisted her army, how he'd pledged to fight for the living, to which Dany was skeptical, Jon understood where it was coming from, because he could have been mad, but Aerys was her father and his grandfather, this man had broken his vows and killed who he'd sworn to protect, that didn't leave him in a great position of honor.

Of course Tyrion had tried to defend him and surprisingly Sansa agreed with Daenerys in her prospect of not to trust him, Jon was on board with that plan as well if he was being honest. Even Bran had chimed into the discussion to everyone's surprise, to Jaime's more than anyone else's. Bran obviously knew something the rest of them ignored. The Lannister didn't even justify the accusations against him but instead said that the matter went beyond loyalty to his house.

Everyone then remained very surprised when Lady Brienne, stood up and decided to defend him. "And you vouch for him?" Sansa asked her. "I do." Brienne of Tarth answered firmly. "You would fight beside him?" Sansa questioned once more. Lady Brienne didn't hesitate to answer, "I would." Jon admired her bravery, to defend a man who had wronged so many northmen in their own home, but he didn't agree with what Sansa replied. "I trust you with my life, if you trust him with yours we should let him stay." Both Dany and Jon turned to look at her questioningly, they seemed to be in the same page. Daenerys looked at him next.

"What does the Warden of the North say about it?" She asked him. Her gaze scrutinizing but softer as their eyes met, Sansa turned to look at him too and out of the corner of his eyes he saw her eyes widened a little. 'Well, she's seen my eyes.' He thought.

"We need every man we can get, but Ser Jaime Lannister has proved himself to be untrustworthy of his word and to tend to abuse of the power that is given to him. I appreciate your kind words Lady Brienne, but I don't trust this man," Jon began. Everyone shifted in their seats, 'did no one really expect me to say that?' He scoffed to himself. "so, I propose that he is to be surveilled at all times, and his return to King's Landing is forbidden until Cersei Lannister no longer sits on the Iron Throne. Your grace, we've heard both mine and Lady Sansa's opinions, what do you have to say?" He finished. He felt slightly offended by the shocked faces of everyone in the room.

"I agree, My Lord." She commented. "I share your concerns about the kingslayer... And we indeed have a battle coming, I will allow him to stay." She turned her attention towards the knight. "Under the conditions stated by the Warden of the North. Shall you defy such terms you will be executed, by my hand."

"Or mine." Jon stated clearly, his gaze remaining sharp against him. "Thank you, your grace... and my Lord." He bowed to them, Daenerys nodded at Greyworm to give him back his sword, to which he complied immediately, shoving it at him. She stood up, with everyone following suit. "The meeting is adjourned." He said. Ser Jaime was escorted out by Greyworm who would surely assign a couple of unsullied to guard him, the rest of the Lords started filing out. Sansa then turned towards him as did Daenerys.

"Jon, could I talk to you?" Sansa asked seriously. She had certainly noticed the change in his appearance. Jon had no idea what to tell her about his eyes, so he decided to avoid having the conversation with her at all, but Dany beat him to it. "Lady Stark, you must forgive your brother, for I have asked him to come with me to check on my children. I'm sure he will be with you as soon as we're done."

"I'm sorry Sansa, I will meet with you later." Jon replied apologetically. Sansa glared slightly at Daenerys, before saying, "do not worry brother, we will speak soon." With that she walked away. He then felt someone else's eyes on him and he found Bran's, that gave him a knowing look. He moved his attention again to the beautiful queen in front of him.

"Shall we head out then, my queen?" He asked her quietly. A smile appearing on his face, her face mirrored his.

"We shall, my king." She whispered and they headed out into the chilly winter air arm in arm.


	5. The Heritage

**_➿Daenerys➿  
_ **

The chill air of winter hit her face as soon as she stepped outside. Her arm tightly in Jon's, they walked through the multiple people in the courtyard, then stepping outside of Winterfell completely, they made their way through her armies' camp, before reaching where her children nestled together in a pile of burned bones.

She was still very shocked by the discovery as of the morning, she wasn't the last Targaryen, that made her immensely happy, and even more so by knowing that her last relative was someone as good as Jon, whom she also happened to be in love with.

The burden of the throne and restoring their house wouldn't rest only on her shoulders anymore, and she was eternally grateful for it, because as much as she's wanted the Iron Throne all her life, it always made her nervous the idea of doing it alone or having an useless consort by her side for political alliances.

She never thought that she would ever love someone again, after all she's been through, it never seemed like a possibility. To have someone love her and to love someone as much as she loves Jon sometimes seemed like a fantasy, as if she were still inside the House of the Undying back in Qarth. Like a perfect vision, where she could actually live happily. But she knew not to get her hopes up too much, after all the only thing queens couldn't have was happiness, so she would enjoy the little of it while it lasted.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Jon when they were just a few steps away from Drogon and Rhaegal. "Dany? Have we exchanged places? Why are you brooding?" He joked. She chuckled slightly. 'Had she been brooding? That's more of his thing.' She thought to herself.

"I'm just thinking... I'm very happy I'm not the last Targaryen..." she told him with a sweet smile, that was one of the reasons she loved being with Jon so much, he always made her smile. He mirrored her with a grin of his own. "Well, I'm happy as well, but I'm a bit lost about it." He considered.

"I know little of our family history... Just what Arya would share about Aegon the conqueror and his sister-wives Rhaenys and Visenya, they were her idols." He explained with a grave look. "To know they're my ancestors..." he chuckled at that, as they stood in front of both dragons which they pet by caressing their scaly snouts. Daenerys doing so to Drogon and Jon to Rhaegal. 

Daenerys noticed how much Rhaegal seemed to like Jon, even before them knowing about his family history, now he seemed to like him even more. Dany stared at him, as he smiled at Rhaegal who purred with his touch. "You know, I think Rhaegal may like you more than me." She interrupted their silence.

"I don't think so, you're his mother. I suppose a mother's love is stronger than any other love." He said sadly without looking at her. In a way she understood his sadness, she'd never met her mother, but at least she knew who she was, and that she'd loved her. Jon didn't have that luxury until yesterday, and to add to the pain, Catelyn Tully the closest thing to a mother he had, never showed him any sort of love, the woman couldn't love a motherless child, and this infuriated her greatly.

"So..." she began, trying to ease the slightly melancholic air that had settled between them. "I've read many books on our family history. What would you like to know?" She asked. Jon turned to look at her, his hand never leaving Rhaegal.

"What about Valyria? Our ancestral home..." he requested. She smiled and thought for a second before speaking again. "Well... Valyria was the greatest empire the world had ever seen, people there were dragon riders, the books don't really say how they managed to tame them, but it may them even more grand... sadly, the Doom of Valyria destroyed everything..." 

"Except for us? The Targaryens." Jon asked unsurely, she nodded. "Yes, you see, twelve years before the Doom, our ancestor, Daenys, had a prophetic dream about the imminent destruction of Valyria, when she warned her father Aenar Targaryen, they sold everything they owned and traveled to Westeros with five dragons of which four died on Dragonstone and only Balerion remained of the dragons brought from the Valyrian freehold." She explained, Jon nodded his head in understanding, clearly intrigued by the tale. She had found her family's history amazing ever since she was a little girl, she'd always admired them so much, and now that she was older, about to reach her so longed goal, she couldn't help but think that she'd made them proud.

"So when were the other dragons born? If I'm not mistaken Visenya's dragon was Vhagar? And Rhaenys' was Meraxes, right?" He asked. Dany was happy that he remembered that. "Yes, I see Arya taught you well." She chuckled. 

"Aye." He nodded. "I'd like to bring her to see the dragons sometime. If that's alright with you, of course." He added. Dany could only nod with a sincere smile, she wished to earn Arya's trust, because from how Jon spoke of her she knew how fond he was of the young Stark girl. "Of course, I'd be happy for her to come see them. I'd get them to behave for her to get near." 

"Thank you, Dany. I'm sure that will mean so much to her." He responded as he reached for her hand which she gave him gladly. "I'd like to get to know Arya as well, she seems very important to you. Therefore she's important to me as well." She smiled.

"How did I get so lucky, Dany?" He mumbled, but it was loud enough for her to hear him. She giggled at that, a sound she still wasn't accustomed to. 

He sighed. "What about our more immediate family? Other than what everyone knows." 

"Well, I never met my father or mother, or Rhaegar, for that matter, but I know you wouldn't have liked Viserys. In the end he was as mad as my father." She said deeply, "When we were children he'd tell me stories about them though, he'd say how our mother was the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms, how she'd loved the three of us so much, how happy she'd been to know she was pregnant again, with me." 

Jon smiled at that, she did too, but shortly it turned into a serious expression, "But Viserys didn't like to talk about father, the only thing he said was that he'd hurt our mother very much." Her eyebrows furrowed. "When we were still young he would tell me about Rhaegar too." She remembered. Jon's already attentive look became even more interested at the mention of his father. 

"Rhaegar was his idol growing up, however, as he grew older his esteem for him turned into hatred, he admired the fact that he was good at killing, but he'd say how it was all his fault, that the both of use were in exile, but I never thought it was." Jon frowned slightly but then his expression became neutral so she continued her tale. "I liked living in Essos when I was younger, Ser Willem Darry took care of us, until he died, but he'd tell me stories about Rhaegar too. He said everyone in the realm loved him, that everyone wanted him to be king, he never believed what they said he'd done with Lady Stark, and you're the living proof that he was right." She chuckled slightly, Jon smiled as well. "I guess so..." he spoke quietly not wanting to interrupt her retelling.

"When Ser Barristan Selmy, a member of my father's kingsguard came to serve me in Essos, he told me about him too. He never believed the tale of the kidnapping, he said that Rhaegar wasn't capable of hurting a woman, starting by the fact of how much he respected everyone. He said he mostly kept to himself too, he had an air of melancholy on him, everyone suspected it was for the circumstances of his birth." Jon frowned. 

"What do you mean?" He asked concerned, "What happened the day of his birth?" Daenerys was surprised he didn't know.

"He was born on Summerhall, the day it burned." She told him.

"Of course, the Tragedy of Summerhall..." Jon commented. She nodded, "Many members of our family died that day trying to hatch dragon eggs, and their deaths supposedly never left Rhaegar be completely happy." she sighed. As she stared at Jon she thought, 'If only Rhaegar knew how good a man his son had become...'

In the short silence she noticed how Jon's happy mood seemed to drown quickly in sorrow, Daenerys was confused at the sudden change, she wanted to make sure he was alright. "Jon, what's the matter? Are you alright?" She asked in concern, reaching with her hand towards him. He took a deep breath, but something about it gave off a heavy feeling of dread.

"No." He answered, breaking eye contact with Rhaegal to look at her. The way his eyes glazed over made her heart churn. "Dany, last night, I was on my way to your chambers, to tell you. I was so confused, I-I wanted to- Gods I don't even know what I wanted... but then Bran came into view, and he... he showed me..." Jon spoke, his voice lowering to a whisper. Dany was concerned, what had he seen that left him so startled? "Jon, what did you see?" She asked softly and with care.

"I saw them, Dany... My mother and father..." he chuckled halfheartedly at that. "I saw how they laughed when they got married... I saw when they died." Daenerys' eyes widened in shock. But Jon kept talking, so she couldn't offer any words of comfort, even if she didn't really know what could comfort him anyways.

"I heard them speaking about what they would name me, you know?" He said, with a small smile. "My father suggested Maegor and my mother laughed at him and said that was a terrible name... they were happy... and then the next thing I know, I was kneeling there next to my mother's death bed, after she gave birth to me, how the last thing she said was that she loved me." A tear escaped him, but he quickly wiped it away.

Dany looked at him in concern, she had never seen him so... broken.

"And then you know what I saw? I was standing in the middle of the Trident, in the midst of battle. I saw when the rubies in his armor got shattered by the Usurper's war hammer. I saw how he cheered and laughed that he'd killed the dragon prince." Daenerys couldn't believe what she was hearing, she was so mad and she couldn't imagine what Jon felt by being there, seeing everything. The horror... "Dany... the only thing I wanted to do was stab him with my sword and don't stop. I felt such rage, and- and I'd never felt something like that before. It was like a burning fire, that was consuming me and what scares me the most is that I didn't want it to stop."

"I wanted to be consumed by the fire, I felt like it was meant to be... I don't- I don't really know Dany, if that makes me a bad person but I- I, the last thing he said was mine and my mother's names." He sniffled at that. "He wasn't a bad man, he was killed as if he'd committed the worst crime and then he was made out to be a horrible person to everyone... and- and my uncle, he protected me, but he lied to me all my life, he could have told me- he... he could have told me..." Jon was full on sobbing, Dany immediately went up and hugged him tightly.

"It's ok... It's ok..." She kept telling him. She herself let a tear escape her, she felt so sad and worried for Jon, she didn't really know what to tell him, so she just held him there, until she felt him calm down, he insisted that he was fine, so she thought of something to try and cheer him up a bit, she really didn't know what to tell him, because she'd felt that feeling he described, the feeling where you want to be consumed by the fire raging on the inside, it had scared her sometimes, that she would go mad like her father if she didn't manage to stop it, no one would have, for there weren't any other dragons.

She was glad she wasn't the only one, that she and Jon had each other.

"Ser Barristan said that the men who followed him to the Battle of the Trident fought beside him, not because they feared him, but because they loved him and they believed in him, and I see that in you..." she told him after some minutes of pondering on how to phrase it. He smiled slightly at that.

"I don't think so, Dany. No one ever loved me until they needed me." He responded. "Even Sansa, she never loved me when we were children, she was just the copy of her mother. But when she needed me to take back Winterfell I was her true brother. But you, if what you say about him is true, then you're more like him than anyone else." She reddened slightly at the compliment, and he spoke again. "When we were in Dragonstone, Missandei told me something that I won't forget." She frowned, when had Missandei spoken to Jon? "She said that they didn't follow you because you were the daughter of a king they never knew, but because you, inspired them and they believed in you."

"Jon, you're much too humble, what do you say about the free folk? You, the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch allowed them to come from beyond the Wall, you inspired them and you saved them, they love you, they followed you to take back Winterfell just like my people followed me across the Narrow Sea. They believe in you, because you're good. You care more about people than power, and that will make you an even greater king." She told him. Jon blushed in embarrassment. "Thank you, Dany. I'm glad that we'll rule together. Maybe we'll make a change after all."

"We'll break the wheel of the treacherous and hard world we live in. We'll create a dynasty just like Aegon the conqueror did, after we witness the Great War." She told him surely and Jon moved from his place in front of Rhaegal and pulled her body against his. Kissing her with intense passion. "We will, my queen. We'll liberate those oppressed by tyrants. We'll give them freedom." He panted after their kiss. She still could taste him on her lips, she wanted to kiss him again but a slight nudge from Drogon and Rhaegal separated them.

They both lowered their shoulders, wanting Jon and herself to ride them. They shared a look and each of them headed for their dragon. Jon a little more confident than the day before. He got up on Rhaegal and Daenerys saw how he held on tightly as the green dragon lifted up into the air. Drogon closely behind.

She smiled at the sight of Jon riding Rhaegal in front of her, she'd have never thought someone but her would ride a dragon, after all until that day she'd thought there were no more Targaryens but her, and now she had the man she loved to share something she enjoyed deeply.

As she flew on top of Drogon, she thought about how Jon's demeanor had changed since she saw him yesterday, yes, he was still the same brooding, handsome and serious Jon she fell in love with, but there was something that she couldn't quite figure out about this new version.

When she met him he'd been so melancholic, so low, he guarded himself a lot, he never seemed to smile, when their relationship progressed she saw how those walls crumbled slightly, more each day they spent together in meetings, or in the morning when they would wake up tangled in each other's bodies from nights of heavy passion, but even then, Jon never looked as determined and secure of himself as he did now, even after his confession and break down.

Daenerys thought that maybe the fact of not being a bastard had been the cause, but when she looked into his eyes now, she saw something she'd only seen in herself when she looked in a mirror, ignoring the fact that his eyes weren't gray anymore, because it wasn't the hue of purple that now filled them what made them resemble her own, but the determination and the fire behind them.

A little fire had always been there, and that was one of the things that had intrigued her so much about Jon in the first place, 'How do this northerner's eyes burn with the intensity of dragon fire, when the North is made of cold ice?'.

Now she understood, Jon was the son of both extremes, he was the son of Lyanna's ice from the North, and Rhaegar's dragon fire of Valyria. He was a balance needed in the realm, which made Daenerys feel overjoyed to know that he would be her king, and that they would marry soon. 

She was brought out of her deep thoughts when Jon yelled at her from Rhaegal, "Dany? Where should we go?" as his eyes shone in glee, this was his place, on top of a dragon beside her. "I dare you to a race..." She smirked at him, as she closed some space between Drogon and Rhaegal, so she could speak more easily, he smirked back at her, "Where to, my queen?" he asked.

"Let's fly to the waterfall and back, but on our way back you have to fly low over Winterfell, so everyone can see you riding Rhaegal." She stated, her smirk ever present on her features, with that she noticed how his eyebrow creased in interest. "Alright, fair enough, what's the prize for the winner?" She grinned deviously at him and she saw him grin.

"If you win, you'll know what your prize is after our ride, in my chambers..." she said with a seductive tone in her voice, she saw as Jon's eyes filled with lust, and she smiled internally to herself. "What if I win, Jaehaerys?" She kept the same tempting tone in her voice, her voice husky, as her eyes drank him whole, she couldn't help but admire him in the position he was in, his muscles clenching as he held onto Rhaegal, his back defined and strong, his thighs flexed in a riding position that made his body even more attractive than it already was.

She knew how her own eyes swirled with lust for him, as she imagined his body entangled with her own. "You won't need to win for me to give you the prize..." he broke her out of her thirsty trance to meet again his gaze, which had darkened much more, his eyes looked gorgeous in that shade of violet.

She smirked again, her gaze naughty, something that Jon took notice of, "Are you sure you won't rather go back now?" he asked ever the innocent. She shook her head in denial and clicked her tongue, "Not yet..."

"Sōvegon, ñuha riña..." she told Drogon, who obeyed her immediately launching himself forward in astounding speed, she glanced over her shoulder and noticed Jon was confused by her words, and funnily enough she caught him mouthing the same words to Rhaegal who huffed before lurching forward as well. 'If only he knew he'd just called him my child.' She thought and chuckled to herself.

She was ahead of him most of the time, but when they reached the waterfall, she fell behind him, which slightly angered her, but she pushed harder on Drogon until she saw Jon slow down as Rhaegal flew down so he could complete the other part of their deal, he would fly low over Winterfell, she was excited to see everyone's look of astonishment to see him riding a dragon, it would make it even more believable that he was indeed a Targaryen prince. She followed in the downward dip, and she saw as he circled Winterfell low, she followed after him and was able to see the look of astonishment indeed of both their hands. Tyrion, Ser Davos and Varys stared after them in amazement on top of one of the castle's walls. She smiled to herself. 'If only they knew... those looks wouldn't compare.'

She was entertaining herself so much that she forgot about having to pass Jon, but she realized that it was too late and that he would win. She made Drogon fly faster, she saw as Rhaegal's wings were flopping down in calmness and when he reached the ground, Jon caressed his long neck before climbing down with a huge grin plastered on his face. She followed suit an landed as well, whispering to Drogon he'd done a good job.

She climbed down and reached Jon, who smiled wildly, "Seems I've beaten the Mother of Dragons, how's that possible?" his playful tone asked as he walked over to her, his arms wrapping around her waist, tightening his grip on her body, making her even more excited about the rest of their afternoon than before. "Apparently, you're the Father of Dragons now, since you called Rhaegal 'my child'? She smirked at him, a frown taking over his smile as his cheeks reddened in embarrassment.

"I didn't know that's what it meant... You'll have to teach me Valyrian." he muttered and she laughed entertained by him. "It does not matter, when we marry they'll be your children as well." She reassured him with a toying smile. "And of course I'll teach you..." His gaze then darkened once again, his face came towards her ear, "I'd like to make children... right now..." he whispered, his tone hungry, he moved his mouth to her pale neck and left wet kisses all over her jawline. She let a moan escape her. "I guess my king deserves his prize, doesn't he?"

"I await for it, my queen..." he growled lowly, she felt the press of his manhood against her lower body and she left out another moan as he kept giving her kisses and licking at her neck and jawline. She pulled away from him and brought her along with her by the hand. They both rushed to Winterfell, where they hurriedly made their way to her chambers, where she informed the unsullied positioned outside her door not to let anyone near it.

She pushed open the door and Jon closed it shut behind them, locking it. Daenerys eyed him as if he were her favorite treat in the world, in a way he was. He stared at her with such intensity, she was right behind him, so when he turned after locking the door, she hungrily caught his plump lips with her own, pushing her tongue through his mouth to tangle with his. She smiled through the kiss, before moving themselves to the bed.

Like that they spent the next couple of hours, they made love and an assortment of other extremely pleasant things that left Daenerys as tired as if she'd run all around Winterfell, but she loved every second of it, not only because it pleasured her, but to feel and to see the look of love Jon had in his eyes every time they laid together, made her heart flutter and beat quicker and harder than ever.

She never thought she could love someone as much as she loved him, it was even strange to her, she'd never felt that kind of feeling before. Of course, she loved Drogo after a while, but that love that started with violence and forcefulness laced with the memories of Viserys' madness, contorted it, making it incomparable to the love she felt for the man she nuzzled in.

Jon was playing with her hair, softly caressing it and twirling it around his fingers, she felt at peace with those actions, it always seemed like a loving and caring gesture she'd longed for, and here he was giving it to her, always so gentle. "Dany? What are you thinking?" He broke her out of her thoughts, she smiled softly at his interest, and answered, "Just this... us, how much I love you."

Jon smiled at this last statement and brought his lips on hers, ever so softly, giving a sigh of contempt, "I love you so very much, Dany. You have no idea..." he said finally. Their joyous and romantic moment was interrupted by a slight commotion outside her door, before the knock brought them out of their bliss completely. "Your grace... your grace... it's urgent, please!" She recognized that voice. It was Tyrion, he sounded panicked, but why? She and Jon both stood up and redressed so they could tend to their official queenly and kingly matters. 

Once they were ready they headed for the door and opened it to find a terrified, yet worried Tyrion Lannister, as the unsullied stared him down menacingly. He stood up straighter as they walked out, before giving an insinuating smirk, 'oh gods' she thought. "Lord Tyrion to what do I owe the disturbance?" Her gaze cold and strong yet not as intimidating as she would use against the enemy. "Um, your grace, we..." he stopped and seemed to think better about what he woud say, before answering, "a meeting has been called for now. Jon, your brother has called everyone saying he has grave news, I have my suspicions about what... Your presence is immensely needed." At this, she sighed, she really wanted a break from being queen sometimes, but after all, this is what she has been longing her whole life, now she couldn't complain. 

Jon sighed as well and they followed Tyrion who had a hurried pace, she was holding on to Jon's arm tightly, he gave her a sense of comfort, but they both knew that any news described from the strange Stark boy as grave, would be even more dangerous and perilous than they could imagine themselves. Daenerys knew about the strange magic that surrounded him and she was weary of it; she had had her own visions, or dragon dreams as she preferred to call them since she was very young, they haven't presented to her for a long time now, but she knew that the gift of sight could be very dangerous if not ambitious.

Since her arrival she had noticed his cold demeanor, to her relief, it wasn't just towards her, but even to his own family, still, instead of reassuring her it worried her even more. He was dangerous and she knew it, he could manipulate them at his will, he could bend events to his favor, gods know if maybe revealing Jon's true identity hadn't been all part of a plot, Daenerys would keep an eye on him, of all the Starks he is the one she trusted less, even if Sansa gave her more reasons at first glance, but she knew better.

The redhead girl was that kind of person who thought she was the smartest one as soon as she entered a room, much like Tyrion if she thought about it, but for her it was a cover and Dany could see right through it, she knew the girl had been through horrible stuff, just like herself, married against her will, raped and defiled, so she showed only a cold and icy stare to everyone, it was a self-defense mechanism as Daenerys had called it when she'd done the same not long ago, for this she pitied Sansa, she was much like her before meeting Jon, before she allowed herself to love and be loved, maybe that's all the Lady of Winterfell needed to warm and bend her broken heart. Love.

Who she seemed less wary of, was Jon's favorite and adored little sister Arya, but she knew not to underestimate the young girl, she saw her training with the blonde tall woman, Lady Brienne was it? Arya was a fierce warrior, it could be seen just from how she brought herself around, if she didn't know any better she would even say she was a spy, she would certainly appreciate Arya as a queensguard if she wanted the position, Dany knew how valuable she could be and also how glad Jon would be to have her by his side more, she'd thought of it ever since she had first seen her lurking aorund corners all over the snowy courtyard, how she could be unnoticed by most, but how had she noticed Arya? She had acquired a strange ability to see more of what seemed to be, it allowed her to read people better, it certainly helped her know who was loyal and who was not, and as she entered the council room where the meeting was being held she saw many different faces, with different expressions, suspicion, loyalty, malice, terror and jelousy.

"Your grace." Everyone present greeted her. "My lord." They greeted Jon after her, who escorted her to her seat before taking his own. "My lords and ladies." She spoke when she was seated. "To what do we owe this meeting?"

"Your grace, Lord Stark has news for us..." Ser Davos, Jon's most trusted advisor answered her. She had found out that Ser Davos was a very loyal man and she was glad that he advised Jon, who didn't have many he could truly trust.

"The Night King marches South of the Wall quicker than I anticipated, he will reach Winterfell within three weeks from now." Bran explained, but there was a change in his voice, as if he felt some emotion when he mentioned Winterfell. Maybe there was something more at play about him than she first thought, almost as if he battled within himself.

"We have to prepare Winterfell's defenses." Sansa Stark commented determinately, "They won't destroy my home. We must win..." Jon who had been quiet raised his head that stooped low, probably hiding his eyes from view. Now it was clear to everyone his change in appearance.

"Aye. But I feel like you still don't understand, Sansa." He said gravely, some of them had surprised looks on them when they looked his way, she just tried to hide her smirk. "The Night King will undoubtedly damage Winterfell, he's too strong and we must acknowledge this." Everyone's mood seemed to lower, but Sansa was not having it, she clearly didn't understand how grave the situation was.

"Winterfell is the strongest keep in the North. What do you suggest we do, brother? Flee?" She spat out at him, Jon remained calm, but Dany could see the anger growing in his eyes. "Sansa, what I suggest is that you stop thinking that this is like fighting the Lannisters." He answered harshly and she seemed surprised at his outburst. "We will not flee, because if we do then all of Westeros is lost. We will start the preparations around the castle and I want everyone, and I mean everyone in this keep doing something. If the women can't fight they will help in the forges and in the clothing, if the children can't do either they will help to dig the trenches." Everyone looked at him in surprise when he finished.

"My lord, I don't think it wise to put these people to work, they are weak, also from the hunger, the food is being rationed more than ever." Lord Varys commented, Jon seemed to relax a bit before answering him. He took a deep breath, "I understand Lord Varys, but we don't have time for pleasantries, the animals of the North are being more scarce everyday, and it's all the Night King's doing." Jon sighed as everyone looked at him in waiting, "I don't want anyone starving to death, but if we want a chance, we need everyone collaborating. Now, on to the strategies for the battle, which we will revise every three days until their arrival considering the progress in the defenses and the weaponry."

"Torgo Nudho." Daenerys motioned Grey Worm to come forward and express his thoughts on what was best to do with the Unsullied and the Dothraki. He went on to explain his strategy and everyone listened intently. "Dothraki are good with their horses. They should be on sides of the army of dead, so they will attack and enclose them." Jon and Ser Jorah nodded at this idea. "Unsullied will be in front, so spears and shields can block them from passing, the defense line."

"We'll position archers on top of the walls and attach dragonglass spikes to 'em in case they penetrate the defensive line and start to climb, at least the bastards will impale 'em selves." Ser Davos added to the strategy. Daenerys then decided to comment as well. But Sansa beat her to it. "We will have the Northerners and the Knights of the Vale covering the retreat of the Unsullied. I suppose we can expect you to be on your dragon, your grace?"

Daenerys found herself smiling forcefully at her, she wouldn't let her see how uncomfortable her behavior made her, she sympathized with her, but Sansa was getting tiresome for Dany to keep dealing with her. "Well of course Lady Sansa. I believe your brother will be joining me..." she affirmed, and let the information sink in. "One of my children has taken a liking to your brother, he's flown alongside me." She then moved her gaze towards Jon, who had a calm expression and nodded at her. "What will you be doing, Lady Stark? Has it already been arranged where the people that can't fight will hide?" She looked around the other advisors for the last question, but Sansa knew she was the one supposed to answer. "Yes, your grace. We initially thought of the crypts, but that would be unwise, since it's full of dead people. The great hall will have to be readied to hold us in."

"I agree." Said Tyrion, "The great hall is the best idea to conceal the women and children."Daenerys sighed at his comment, she knew he didn't intend to hide, but she wouldn't allow him to hide, she needed him alive even if he had been failing as of late in his duties as Hand.

"You too my lord Hand." She told him and his face contorted into a frown. "But... but your grace, if I'm out there I can maybe see something no one else has seen, I- I can help." She shook her head in denial. "Lord Tyrion, you're not a battle commander, you're not a soldier, you're my Hand and I need your mind, not your strength." He stared at her before nodding his head grimly. She would not risk him, she needed him to take King's Landing.

"My queen, there's something though that we could try..." he mused. "In the battle of Blackwater Bay, we came out victorious because we used wildfire. I think that could be a good option if we manage to get some. We could place it in the trenches, that would be then lit by you." Almost everyone seemed interested in the plan, but not Ser Davos, he had an angry expression on his usually calm face.

"No. Wildfire is a terrible thing, it can't be controlled..." Daenerys frowned, she would have thought Ser Davos would agree since he knew the danger of the threat they faced. But then he spoke again and Dany grew sad for him. "And let me remind you Lord Tyrion that the battle you feel so proud of winning took my son's life."

"Forgive me, Ser Davos." Tyrion uttered embarrassed. "But wildfire might be a good way to save more lives, when the queen and her dragons light the dead, the wildfire will help eliminate more of them." Jon looked conflicted, he didn't want to choose Tyrion's suggestion for Ser Davos' sake, she could see it in his eys, but the idea could work in their favor.

"Lord Tyrion, you manage to get yourself the things needed to create the wildfire, and when you do report to Ser Davos, he will be in charge of the safe positioning of the wildfire." Jon told him firmly, Tyrion seemed taken aback by the command, Jon wasn't one to impose things that way on others that did not follow him. The dwarf looked in her direction and she nodded her head agreeing with what Jon had ordered.

"Alright, if there's nothing else to address-" Jon started to say, but he was rudely interrupted by Varys. "Actually, my lord, there's an issue we've all been wondering since this morning, what's happened to your eyes?" Jon remained calm on the outside, but Dany knew better, she could almost see gears turning in his head.

"Whatever do you mean, Lord Varys?" He asked innocently, he didn't know what to say. "My lord, if you hadn't noticed, your eyes are purple just like the queen's, a Valyrian trait you did not posses yesterday the last time I saw you." Jon then smiled, as if he had been just a silly boy asking a silly question.

"Oh, of course, well I'm afraid to disappoint you, but there's no Valyrian trait here, I talked to Samwell Tarly, my friend who told me that the strange color was probably caused by some infection, I really don't know anything about medicine or infections, but I trust him, he said that it was probable for it to go away once I'd completed the treatment he gave me." Daenerys was impressed, she thought his performance was absolutely brilliant, almost as if it were the truth.

"Oh, I see. Well, I hope you get well soon." Varys seemed disappointed with the answer, almost as if he were expecting something else.Tyrion then chimed in with his playful behavior and gained a laugh from everyone. "Well, the change in color makes you seem more of a Southerner."

"I suppose we're finished now, you're dismissed." Daenerys said firmly and everyone nodded their heads in respect, except for Sansa, who just walked out. The only one left before her and Jon was Tyrion, who seemed to be trying to remember something from a long time ago. "Tyrion, what is it?" She asked him impatiently.

He just seemed to notice them staring at him, he had been lost in thought. "Oh, nothing my queen, it's just that Jon here reminds me of someone I saw a long time ago but I can't seem to remember who." Jon tensed, but Tyrion didn't notice. "My apologies." He answered before bowing and walking out of the room.the both of them sighed in relief.

"That was awkward." Jon commented, and she chuckled as she stood up to reach him, he mirroring her. "I think you reminded him of my brother." She whispered to him in case someone lingering the hall heard them. Jon threw his head back at that laughing vividly, she almost forgot that hours before he had broken down in tears. "I don't think so, from what I know he was considered the most beautiful man in Westeros, I am certainly not."

"Who says you aren't?" She said as she went up to him and planted a kiss on his lips. They both smiled at each other before Daenerys suddenly smiled as she remembered something. "Jaehaerys..." she whispered. "Shouldn't have we told them of our plans to wed?" Jon held her waist tightly, he grinned at her, a plan forming behind his eyes.

"Maybe we should surprise them... we won't have to listen to them say it's a bad idea." He suggested, Daenerys agreed, but she wanted to tell Jorah and Missandei, she wanted them with her in that special moment. "That may be wise, but I will tell MIssandei and Ser Jorah, I want them there with me in the moment we become one." She smiled at him and he hugged her affectionately. "That's alright. I'll tell Arya about our marriage, she wouldn't forgive me if she weren't there."

"It's settled then." She told him as they walked out of the meeting room and towards the great hall for supper.

"We will marry tomorrow." He confirmed.


	6. The Dream

**_➿Arya➿  
  
_ **

Winterfell had changed so much, she knew it was meant to do so, it had been eight years since she'd been home.

Home... what was home? Was Winterfell her home?

Maybe it had been, once, when she was just a little girl with the dream of owning her own sword, but not anymore. Winterfell had lost everything that had made it a home for her.

Her father had been beheaded by the Lannister bastard Joffrey in King's Landing, never would she see him again sitting in the Godswood with Ice in his hands.

Her mother had been killed at the Red Wedding, and she'd avenged her by bringing winter over House Frey, but never would she feel again a hug from her mother or sit through one of her lectures on being a lady.

Her oldest brother Robb, that tried to avenge their father was killed too, and she would never see him again, fighting in the courtyard with Jon and Theon.

Her youngest brother Rickon, little baby Rickon, she would never see him grow up and live his life, for he was another in her family who'd gone way before his time.

Her family suffered a terrible faith that she couldn't understand, why had the God of Death claim all of them? Why had he taken them from her? 'Valar Morghulis', all men must die, but they also must serve, 'Valar Dohaeris'.

Arya hadn't thought much about the death of her family while on Braavos, she'd decided to become 'no one', but how could she dishonor them all by pretending that they never were, that she never was... only returning home, and embracing who she was allowed her to grieve and she had been glad to see her remaining siblings, who slightly bettered her internal battle of who she was after so long, but even then, too much had changed, for all of them.

Jon had looked the same, her own gray eyes shining in his face, his black curls wild in his head, but he changed, he was a man grown, who's eyes didn't sparkle with wonder anymore, but with tired eyes that had suffered inordinately through hardships and pain. 

And still, she was proud of all he'd accomplished, he became the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, he was killed and she couldn't imagine what that would be like, he was stabbed in the heart, betrayed by someone he trusted, but even through all the difficulties he rose, he rose to be King in the North, and no one cared that he was a bastard, just like she never did, for that she was truly glad, for maybe Jon would finally see himself in another light.

Sansa, the lady, the little girl who wanted nothing more than to be queen, had become a queen of ice, with a mask that covered her elegant Tully features, that should remind Arya of her mother, but Sansa was more broken than Arya had thought she ever could be, in her pain she had become strong but was that strength fed of manipulations learned from Cersei and Littlefinger, of that she still wasn't sure.

And Bran, well, he wasn't Bran anymore. Magic had surrounded him and had taken away her younger brother, who claims to be the Three-Eyed Raven, with the power of the Children of the Forest. They'd been apart a long time but he hadn't just change because he grew older, he had become someone else entirely, and Arya knew of this. She knew how to become someone else and play the game of faces, that's how she knew not to trust a word her brother said.

She'd left the great hall a while ago, she didn't enjoy sitting at the front table where everyone could gaze at her, so she decided to go out to the courtyard. She had been so thoughtful that she hadn't even noticed Jon, he was approaching her, Arya noticed how different he seemed from yesterday at the Godswood, ever since she came back from Braavos, she notices more things about people, and in this case Jon seemed much more confident, than yesterday, walking almost regally, which amused her, for he reminded her of his dragon queen as he neared. 

"Arya!" He exclaimed, happiness could be seen in his gray eyes, no, Arya did a double take, they weren't gray but purple? What's happened to her brother's eyes? Her face didn't betray though, for she stood calmly in front of him, "Jon, what's happened to your eyes?" She asked, her voice neutral and paused.

"Oh that's right, I keep forgetting about it, apparently I've caught an infection of some sorts. I don't know any more than that. Sam said it should pass after completing the treatment." He answered. Arya almost believed him, but his voice betrayed him. She was sure than someone else wouldn't have noticed the subtle change, but she did. 

"Alright." She said. "Now the truth." Jon seemed confused, 'well, he's become a great actor since I last saw him apparently' she thought to herself. "Arya, that's what Sam told me" he answered with an amused expression.

"I know when someone is lying to me." She answered simply, Jon stared at her before sighing. 

"Fine, he said that it may not pass, so I'm stuck with this eye color and with an awful itch, are you happy now?" Arya looked upon his face and couldn't find any sign of a lie there, still, she had a feeling that there was something he wasn't telling her, however she wouldn't pressure. For now. 

"Good. Was it that hard?" She asked him, he just smiled at her. "No, but there's something very important that I want to tell you, but swear that you won't tell anyone about it. Specially... " Like many times when they were still young they said in unison, 

"Don't.

Tell.

Sansa."

They both chuckled at the familiar habit, this reminding her of her lost childhood, she then nodded towards Jon. "I swear it."

"Well, I'd like for you to stand next to me at my wedding." He commented and Arya now allowed her face to contort into surprise, she knew who the only person he could be meaning to marry was, the dragon queen, Daenerys Targaryen, Arya didn't have anything against her yet, in fact she reminded her of her childhood hero, the fierce warrior queen Visenya, but she didn't think marrying her would be the best idea for Jon.

She didn't realize that she hadn't said anything after a few minutes so Jon talked again, "Look, I know you don't like her, but this is not a marriage for an alliance, Daenerys and I love each other, and no one knows about our union except for you and two of her friends. I love you Arya and I want my favorite sister there with me." Arya was moved with what he said, she reached for his shoulder and squeezed reassuringly, she loved her brother, if this was his choice she would be there and if he said he loved her, then Arya would try to love her too. For him.

"I'm happy for you Jon, if you say you love her then that's all I need. Of course I will be there for you, you're my brother no matter what, and I love you, I'll always be there for you." She went up to hug Jon who was smiling gratefully at her. "I love you too" he said and whispered in the end, "Little sister..." as if it pained him to call her that. She decided to ignore it, for she felt at home in his arms, just like when she left for King's Landing, when he gifted her Needle.

They broke their hug and Jon smiled at her widely, she couldn't help but smile back at him, he was probably the one she missed the most of all her siblings. The silence they had was broken though, when Jon told her something she found very exciting, as if she were a little girl again.

"I've asked Daenerys if she would allow you to go see Drogon and Rhaegal, her dragons, and she's agreed happily, she wishes to get to know you because if you're important to me then you're important to her." He said dreamily, he was certainly thinking of her, Arya knew she was using that as a strategy to get one of the Starks on her side, since Sansa and Bran certainly wouldn't cooperate she'd try with Arya.

She knew how to work the queen to her favor, she didn't worry.

"That's wonderful Jon!" She exclaimed, the excitement of seeing the dragons closely wasn't fake but she was unsure of their mother, but she would keep her doubts to herself in front of her madly in love brother. "Thank you..."

"Anytime." He dismissed, before someone else came into their view. The Mother of Dragons herself, accompanied by her guards. She looked towards Jon, who smiled brightly at her when he acknowledged her presence. 

The queen strode regally towards them without her guards following, giving her some space but keeping a close eye on her. Arya felt a bit uncomfortable to have her interrupt their moment, but Jon wanted them to get along, so she would try.

"Jon, Lady Stark." She nodded in greeting when she reached Jon's side. Arya cringed at being called 'Lady' for she certainly wasn't. "I'm not a lady, your grace." She answered curtly. The queen looked amused by her answer.

"Alright, what should I call you?" She asked politely, she had refined manners and a soft tone, that even so, commanded strength, Arya could admit she liked that about her. 

"You can call me Arya." She answered, and the queen smiled at her gracefully. "Well, then you may call me Daenerys when we are alone." She told her, and she could see the sincerity behind her statement. Arya gave her a small smile in reply.

"Well then, I suppose Jon has informed you of our plans?" She questioned calmly, she had a composed smile on her face and Arya read her face clearly when she moved her gaze towards Jon. In that moment any doubts she had about their so-called love, were erased. The qu- Daenerys, looked at Jon as if he were the most amazing thing she had ever seen, her gaze was full of love, a look that everyone longs to have in their lives. Even Arya herself.

"Yes. I believe congratulations are in order..." Arya trailed off, receiving a grateful glance from Jon in return. He turned his head to look towards the queen, and he took her red gloved hand in his. "Thank you Arya, it means a lot that you'll be there for your brother. For us." Daenerys addressed her kindly. Arya nodded curtly before speaking again, "My brother has told me you've allowed for me to see your dragons." she commented.

"Yes, indeed. He's told me of your admiration for my ancestor Visenya. She was one of my favorites when I was a young girl as well." She mentioned and Arya looked at her realizing something. This queen was so different from Cersei, she was kind and respectful, even if Arya knew that she wouldn't be disrespectful towards her in front of Jon, anyways but she didn't catch any falseness in her statements so far, she liked this. "We can go whenever you desire."

"Thank you, your grace." Arya said, but the older woman gave her a look and she corrected herself. "Daenerys." The queen relaxed and smiled brightly at her for using her name. "It's my pleasure, I'd like to get to know you better. I saw you train in the courtyard yesterday, consider me impressed." Daenerys complimented and Arya felt the tips of her ears turn red at the compliment. 

"That's very much appreciated, Daenerys." She said as she bowed slightly towards her. Jon chuckled from beside her. He then cleared his throat. "Well, I guess we'll see each other tomorrow in the Godswood." He told her questioningly.

Arya had felt unsure but after the short conversation with the queen, she was happy that her brother, who had always beaten himself down about his status as a bastard, was finally with someone he loved and who seemed to love him back.

"Yes, I will see you both tomorrow." She confirmed and they glanced at each other sharing a small smile. Arya grinned at them too. "Thank you Arya." Jon thanked her and put out his arm for the queen to take.

"It was a pleasure talking to you Arya Stark." Daenerys said as they started to walk away from her. Arya waved back at them until they were out of her sight, with the unsullied guards trailing behind their queen.

Arya stared into the cold night when she was left alone with her thoughts again. She thought mainly about Jon, how different he seemed, how he wasn't telling her the complete truth about what happened to his eyes. She wasn't sure her brother was the same person she remembered.

She always thought of Jon as a constant. The broody, noble and honorable Jon Snow, not her bastard brother or half brother, but her brother! She loved him, and she worried about him.

He seemed happy with his queen, but was there anything more to that marriage than just love? Why was it secret? Could there be a reason why they weren't telling any of their advisors?

Arya had many questions flying in her head, and little answers to ease them, she longed for the days of her childhood, when everything was easier, and happier.

Winterfell felt different now, after being in Braavos for so long, she had missed the cold feeling of the Westerosi North, and still she couldn't help but notice how odd it was. It brought a sensation that she's experienced many times now, death. 

She didn't really comprehend the situation, the White Walkers had always been a story that Old Nan would tell them as children, but now suddenly it was all real, Jon had fought them and they were coming for the leaving just like thousands of years ago.

Just like dragons were real again.

Magic had returned to the world, she was very well aware of this, and she wasn't sure it was a good thing. 

  
———

**_➿Jon➿  
  
_ **

A new morning had come again, Jon hadn't slept alongside Dany since they would be getting married in the early morrow, but after the events of the day before, his confession to Daenerys, Jon felt better, freer, he'd let out all of his worries and the cause of his insomnia the night he found out the truth. He'd opened up to her about the horror of seeing his parents die, and that liberated him, finally allowing some hours of sleep, but not a restful sleep unfortunately.

Jon had a dream, a dream that felt much more vivid than those he'd had ever since coming back to life, for the first time he interacted in his dream, but he didn't like it, it was more of a warning, and he didn't like what it implied. 

He'd learnt a hard truth that night, his brother Bran was dead too.

_Jon's dream had begun when he stood in front of an unknown, beautiful weirwood tree, with a tranquil and slightly familiar melody playing in the background, the landscape had an idyllic peace that enveloped Jon in a warm and cozy feeling._

_The melody was no longer, a song taking it's place, and as the words pooled out of a man, Jon was reminded of something, the problem was, he didn't know what. The voice grew louder as Jon neared the tree, he realized that the man who sang was sitting on the other side of the white trunk, and so he moved over the tree, his breath getting caught up in his throat._

_Sitting there, twanging delicately the strings of a silver harp, was a man that Jon recognized; without the need of his silver hair or indigo eyes to give him a clue, Jon knew that was his father, Rhaegar Targaryen._

_He couldn't move, and he thought that it would be a glimpse of the past like he'd seen before, and soon he would wake like always. But he was quick to realize that he couldn't move because of the thumping of his heart and his nerves._

_Rhaegar didn't seem to notice him, until the song came to an end. He placed his harp down on his lap and turned to look at Jon, a smile grazed his Valyrian features. He looked at Jon with such wonder and glee, that soon Jon found himself sitting beside his sire in the soft grass of the meadow._

_"Jaehaerys." He called him, and Jon once again stiffened, his heart thumped in his chest like a drum. "Finally, the dragon's dreams have reached you. I have much to tell you." Jon finally turned his face and found him again smiling at him proudly, he managed to find his voice. "Father?"_

_Rhaegar's smile grew bigger if that was even possible. "Yes, my son." Jon felt confused, he was talking with his father, he could hear him. "You can hear me?" He asked, a confusion and slight wonder in his trembling voice._

_"Yes, Jaehaerys. And you must hear me, there's much we need to discuss." Jon found himself nodding at his words, so his father stood, taking his silver harp with him, he motioned for Jon to follow. He did, and they walked together side by side. "You've finally discovered the truth, you're not Ned Stark's son as you believed. How do you feel about this?" He asked calmly, his voice even and soft, but coming with strength that made you want to tell him your deepest secrets._

_"I- I was confused, hurt, mad. How could he lie to me all my life? My whole person was a lie created by him." Jon confessed without having to think twice to speak. His father's smile subsided, as he nodded sadly. "But it wasn't." He said. "You've always known the truth. You've said many times, 'I'm not a Stark'. And yet there you were, alongside the Starks of Winterfell, your mother's home, you always had their blood even when you believed Ned was your father, but you knew, and it didn't have anything to do with having the surname Snow. You felt out of place, never comfortable in their crypts, as if the Kings of Winter judge you with their stone eyes." Once again Jon found himself nodding in agreement to all he'd said. He was right, he had never truly felt like a Stark, even if he knew that by blood he was._

_"Yes, that's- that's true. I never felt like a Stark. But- but how do you know all of this?" Jon asked him, and his father gave him a grin. "Haven't you already figured it out? I am a part of you, as is your mother. We live within you, we always have and we always will." He nodded once again, as if he understood something else._

_"So I'm talking to myself then, and none of this is real?" His father reached out and grasped his shoulder with his free hand. "The truth isn't always comforting Jaehaerys, but it is real. I'm here to let you accept who you are, you chose me, the form of the father you never knew to help you understand what you already know."_

_"I know that I am your son, that- that I am a Targaryen, one of the last, and I know what I have to do but I don't know if I have the strength to do it." Jon took a deep calming breath. "I've fought for so long, everywhere, I've been humiliated, betrayed, lied to, beaten, killed..." He paused. "Hell, I was killed for doing the right thing. How am I supposed to- to sit on a throne that I never knew was mine, how am I suppose to rule over people who think of me as the bastard son of a traitor?" His father was looking at him with a strange expression, Jon felt a little embarrassed to have confessed all of this, he knew that it was his own head, but that didn't make it better in that moment._

_"By showing them you're not." Jon tilted his head in question. "Are you Jon Snow?" He asked. Jon immediately nodded without thinking. Rhaegar sighed, "No, you're not. Because Jon Snow was a lie told to keep you safe, and then that little boy with a bastard's name was killed by his brothers of the Night's Watch."_

_"Kill the boy, and let the man be born... that's what Maester Aemon told you. The boy already died, and the man was born, but he hasn't risen. Jaehaerys of House Targaryen, third of his name, rightful king of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector 0f the Realm, the Savior of the Freefolk, the White Wolf, the Reborn, that's who you are, who you need to be, if you're going to win that is..." Jon wondered in the words of his father, win... he had to win against the Night King, but Jon Snow could never kill him, he was scared of him, terrified. But Jaehaerys needn't be, for ice melts with fire, and he was a dragon._

_"Only Jaehaerys can defeat him. Not Jon Snow." He told his father with an inquisitive expression, secretly asking for his opinion. Rhaegar nodded, "Yes, but you have another enemy, as powerful as the Night King." Jon's newfound purple eyes widened in shock and confusion, his hand instinctively going to his hair._

_"A- a new enemy? As- as powerful as the Night King? But- but how? Who? Who is it?" The questions and worries swirled in Jon's mind powerfully, as he thought of what this revealed information could mean, or why his father who after all was a representation of his own creation, would be saying this if he didn't know it himself."You know who it is... I wouldn't be telling you if you didn't know it already." The last dragon replied confidently, as he and Jon stopped over the edge of a small hill._

_Down the hill he saw a beautiful image, his mother Lyanna was running around playing with a girl of dark hair and caramel skin— Rhaenys, he realized— a little babe with silver hair like his father cradled in the arms of a woman similar to his half sister— Elia Martell and his half brother Aegon— near them rested a beautiful silver haired woman that could be no other than his grandmother Rhaella— she looked so much like his Dany— and next to her sat other two men, Jon had an idea of their identities, but the men as many have_ _described, didn't have that gaze filled with madness and evil, instead they both carried peaceful expressions as they talked calmly with his grandmother. Aerys and Viserys, he realized, free of madness.  
_

_"Death clears the mind Jaehaerys." His father spoke, probably knowing what Jon was staring at. "The madness cleared from their minds when they died. Just like your former self when you were killed." Jon turned his gaze towards him._

_"Are you saying that I would have been as mad as them if the traitors of the Black Brothers hadn't killed me?" He asked outraged, never have he been so insulted. But his father just laughed, a full laugh emitting from him, but not mockingly, instead he was just amused. "No, of course not, my son. But your mind has been cleared and strengthened, nothing can penetrate it, no evil." Jon inhaled deeply at this, relieved of the clarification._

_"I wish think had been different." He said suddenly, as he stared at his happy family in the valley below him, "I wish you had won against Robert Baratheon. Then maybe you and my mother would still be alive, my siblings would still be alive, Dany wouldn't have suffered at the hands of Viserys and you would have been a great king like everyone wanted you to..." Rhaegar watched him intently, moved by Jon's words. He patted his shoulder in a comforting manner once again._

_"The gods can be cruel, but the Targaryens don't answer to gods nor men." His father sighed. "I loved your mother son, I should have run away with her and never gone back to Westeros, but you know that love is the death of duty, and duty is the death of love. I made the wrong choice." He admitted with woe._

_"You brought the whole country to war for her!" Jon exclaimed, how could his father think that he'd chosen duty over love, after their love being the cause for the violent rebellion. "I think that means you chose love over duty." Rhaegar shook his head in denial._

_"Yet, in the end when she was with a swollen belly and begged me not to go. Not to face Robert in the trident. I left her alone with three Kingsguard in the Tower of Joy. In the end I chose duty and for that I won't ever forgive myself. Ever." His father confessed with a broody expression Jon recognized as one of his own._

_At that moment, after that confession, Jon promised something to himself. He wouldn't end up like his father. With regrets about the woman he loved, so he spoke his mind to clear the last doubts he possessed._

_"Father?" Jon asked. "Do you think I did the right thing, choosing to marry Dany even if she's my aunt by blood? Your sister?" His father once again laughed in amusement at him. "Jaehaerys, had you both been born as prince and princess in the Red Keep you would have been betrothed. Dragons keep other dragons company, well with the exception of a brave she-wolf as fierce as a dragon." He smiled, doubts vaporizing in his head._

_"Thank you, father." He said contentedly with a sigh and a graceful smile on his face. He felt at such peace standing at the edge of the small hill in the green idyllic meadow. His father next to him as they watched attentively at their family._

_"Lyanna!" He heard a rough voice he recognized. From the other side of his silver haired family, stood the proud dark haired Starks of Winterfell, well except for the muzzles of red brown hair characteristic of his brothers with Tully blood. The one who called for his mother, was the same man who saved him from death beyond the wall, his uncle Benjen. Beside him stood his other uncle, the one who he thought as his father all his life, Ned, and another man who he recognized from the statue down in the Stark crypts, his uncle Brandon. Robb, Rickon and Bran stood behind them._

_Bran? But Bran is not dead._

_"Father," he called. "why is Bran here? He's not dead, he's in Winterfell." His father stared at him with gleaming eyes as he moved to hug him. Jon hugged him back finding a comfort never before experienced in his life, different from Ned Stark's embrace, and he relished in it._

_"Jaehaerys you have all the answers you need... remember, only when the Dawn is brought will you see clearly through your friends and foes." Jon broke the hug and stared at his fading face. "I love you, son..." was the last thing he heard, before he jolted in his bed, the words "What's that supposed to mean?" Escaping his lips._

That's how Jon's, or better, Jaehaerys' day had begun, confused but joyful, for as he got ready he was closer to marrying the love of his life, his best friend in this shit world they lived in. Daenerys Targaryen, his queen.

Jon got dressed in his usual attire, he would have liked to be married in Targaryen garb and as Jaehaerys Targaryen, however, he couldn't, not yet at least. But he would marry Daenerys again with his true name and bearing the sigil of his house, no matter their blood relation.

He'd asked Sam last night if he could officiate the wedding, that way at least the documents would have his real name, to Jon's displeasure Samwell Tarly was completely against their union, he could still remember the words his friend had spoken last night and how much they'd hurt him and angered. More than he'd cared to admit.

_"Sam!" Jon called out as he saw the familiar man retiring for the night. Sam turned around and gave him a half smile, they hadn't talked ever since he told him the truth, when they left things in a harsh manner. "Jon." He nodded, when he reached him._

_"I need to talk to you, it's very important." Jon said, as Sam nodded in reply and followed him. "It's better if we talk in the crypts, there's too many ears around." He told Sam when they were walking across the courtyard. There he also saw Arya again, who seemed to be having a conversation with the Hound, he dismissed it, and they made their way down the steps to the crypts._

_"What did you want to talk about? Is it about why your eyes are purple now? Are you going to make your claim? Have you told Daenerys?" Sam started bombarding him with questions and Jon chuckled, he reminded him of when they first met at Castle Black, he thought that Sam was a coward at first and that he talked way too much, but he grew to love him like a brother._

_"Sam, calm down." He said, "First, about my eyes, I have no idea how it happened I just woke up like this, I've told the advisors that you said it was an infection that should past." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he told him his excuse that actually sounded ridiculous. Sam's face told him exactly that. "Secondly, I did tell Daenerys, and that's what I wanted to talk to you about, really."_

_Sam sighed, "You shouldn't have told her she will see you as a threat and she will try to kill you." Jon was shocked to say the least but didn't say anything about this feelings that Sam had for his Dany. He also felt hurt. Didn't he know that Daenerys had been all alone in the world since she was a young girl, until that day she thought there were no other Targaryens, but for him the only thing in her mind is a chair made of swords, as if she would not care that she had a last member of her family alive and well._

_"Daenerys is thrilled, Sam." Jon commented dryly as he stared down his friend. " 'A Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing.' Didn't Maester Aemon tell you that?" Sam looked down at his feet. "What did you want to tell me then?" He asked after a few seconds._

_"Daenerys and I will marry and I want you to do it." Jon stated, as Sam's eyes grew so big that they looked about to burst. "No... no, you can't marry her Jon, she's- she's your aunt, and- and she's not a good person, she's not good for you, she will drag you down when she goes mad." That last thing did it for Jon._

_"When she goes mad?" He whispered in disbelief, anger in his face and voice. "WHEN SHE GOES MAD? What is that supposed to mean Sam? That all the Targaryens are destined to go mad?" Jon tried to breathe, he didn't like that he raised his voice at Sam, but his anger was eating him from the inside, Dany was a good, kind and just person, she didn't deserve the treatment people were giving her, the same they gave him for years._

_"Her father was the Mad King-" He started, but that only angered Jon more so he cut him off. "AND HE WAS MY GRANDFATHER! WAS HE NOT?"Sam shuddered at Jon's raised voice again, but now he didn't care. "AM I DESTINED TO GO MAD TOO, SAM?" He yelled._

_He grimaced. "She was born of incest, there's a big possibility that she will go mad. She's shown signs," Sam added. "burning people alive." He scoffed and Jon started laughing, yes, he started laughing, for he couldn't believe what was coming out of Samwell Tarly's mouth._

_"Was I mad for hanging Thorne and Olly?" Jon asked him. "Or for beheading Janos Slynt?" Sam shook his head."They deserved it." His friend replied, but Jon wasn't done. "Did anyone call Robert Baratheon mad when he smashed his hammer against my father's chest? Or did someone call Tywin Lannister mad when he ordered to kill my siblings, a pair of babes and rape their mother?"_

_"They were at war." Sam said in explanation. "Your half siblings shouldn't have been killed but they were the spoils of a war started by your father. Everyone thought he committed a crime." Jon was at a loss, how could Sam say this about two innocent babes?_

_"Well, so did your father when he betrayed his liege Lord to ally himself with the Lannisters..." Jon replied, and as soon as he said it he saw how Sam's face contorted into one of disbelief. "This is not you Jon. The Jon I know would never say that, you would never do that, you would give them a second chance..." Jon couldn't help it and he said it. What he'd kept himself from saying for so long to anyone, he finally admitted it in the light of day, or night._

_"The Jon you knew is dead! His Brothers in Black killed him..." Jon exclaimed. "And I would have done the same she did, they were traitors who refused to accept her mercy by bending the knee. You say that I wouldn't have killed them, but you don't know me anymore Sam, you've been away for too long and I'm not the same boy I was when I went to the Wall, my watch ended when they killed me and so did my mercy." Sam had a look of compassion, that contorted into disbelief, then going back to forced compassion._

_"I'll marry you to her." Sam said after moments of silent staring. "I'm not happy about it but if that's what you want, I'll do it, for you." Jon was greatful because of it, but his anger at him hadn't passed._

_"Thank you." He sighed in relief. He wasn't proud of how the conversation had turned out, but he wasn't going to let Sam call Dany mad when she is nothing but. "If it worries you so much, there's not going to be any trouble with the line of succession, for I will be king and Daenerys will be my queen. We will rule as equals." Jon explained, trying to ease his worries, maybe if he knew that Jon intended to claim his birthright alongside her, then he would feel more at ease._

_"Very well then, when shall I marry you?" He asked, eyebrows slightly furrowed, but with a better mood settling in. Jon smile at this, just thinking about it made him happy. "On the early morrow we will meet in the Godswood. With Arya, Ser Jorah, and with Daenerys' handmaiden and friend Missandei." He expressed with ease, as Sam nodded unsurely._

_"Well then, I shall retire and get sleep for tomorrow." Sam said uncomfortably as he walked past Jon towards the exit. "Goodnight Jon."_

_"Sam, wait!" He turned around in his direction. "Could you... could you make the- the documents with my real name?" Jon asked stumbling with his words._

_Sam nodded his head uncomfortably and bid him good night. Jon sighed before retiring too._

Now, pondering on it, Jon worried about the reaction his sisters would have when they learned the truth, that he was not really their brother, but their cousin. With a sigh, 'I don't have time to worry about this now.' he thought, as he straightened himself and finished getting ready, the silence of Winterfell indicating that it was still very early so that with luck the wedding wouldn't be interrupted.

Jon moved towards his drawer and saw his mother's silver pin shining brightly, grabbing the direwolf form, he pinned it on his tunic. He was about to head out of his chambers, but he stopped in his tracks and moved to the trunk where he'd locked Dark Sister securely.

As he opened it using the key, he grabbed the sword in its sheath and exchanged it for Longclaw, with his heavy cloak, the shining ruby wasn't very noticeable, so for his wedding ceremony he would wear it, that way he'd have two things of his parents, so he knew they'd be with him during that joyful and fortunate moment.

Finally making his way out his room Jon walked straight towards the Godswood, where soon his beloved Dany would become his wife.


	7. The Argument

**_➿Jaehaerys➿_ **

Jaehaerys Targaryen felt anxious, as he walked out of his chambers towards the Godswood, the still dark sky of the early morrow enveloped Winterfell in a chilly breeze. He was still thinking of his dream the previous night, but the real cause for his unforgiving nerves, was his imminent union with his beloved. Dany...

It had been only three days since he'd discovered the truth of who he really was, not a bastard but a prince. It was something to confuse anyone, even more with the many things changing and threatening his and his loved ones lives. The Night King would be upon them in barely a fortnight, and if they survived this then he would have to take on another responsibility.

He'd had a dream where his father, his real father, told him that he must accept his true self, a Targaryen king. He wanted to make him and his mother proud, that's all he ever really wanted ever since he could want something, —that and being a true born, were his heart's desires since he was a little boy— but for more than he tried to embrace that he was a descendant from the great dragonlords of Valyria, his insecurities won him over. What ifs filling his head...

His mind kept going back to some of Catelyn Stark's words, and for more that he tried, he couldn't help it, his own mind hadn't processed the fact that he wasn't a bastard anymore, that he never was, that her words had tortured him all his life, just to find out that her hate was unfounded.

_"You're nothing more than a stain in this family..."_

_"Get out of my sight, boy."_

_"You could never be better than Robb. You could never be better than any of my children."_

_"What do you know? You're just a bastard..."_

Her hateful words kept ringing as he grew closer to the Godswood, what if he wasn't enough for Dany? She was a queen and he was just a bast- no, he wasn't. 'I am the heir to the Iron Throne, not a bastard, I'm enough for her. I can be enough, right?' He sighed. He had so many insecurities that just resurfaced overnight, maybe it was seeing his fath- uncle Ned again, but the dream just messed up with his somewhat acceptance of the truth.

He finally reached the tree and found himself to Arya's back, she was sitting in front the Weirwood tree, Needle at her side. He approached her quietly, not wanting to disturb her.

"Am I too early?" She asked him when he stood beside her, Jon looked down at her, her gray eyes meeting him. They reminded him of who he used to be, before he was killed, a small reassurance that someone always thought he was enough. He needed that, now more than ever.

"You were always an early riser." He told her with a chuckle, Arya nodded her head absentmindedly, as she turned to look towards the carved face in the tree again. "We used to train about this time in the past." She mused.

"Aye... Sometimes I miss those days more than anything." He told her honestly, Arya looked up at him again with a small smile on her face. She opened her mouth to say something, but the sound of crunching snow stopped her. They both moved their gaze towards Sam, who came shuffling with his fur and a book.

"Oh. Hello." Sam greeted when he reached them and saw Arya. "You must be Jon's other sister Arya?" She nodded with a serious expression, she looked as if she were studying him. He noticed that she did this a lot.

"Samwell Tarly of Hornhill." She said. Sam looked slightly surprised at the fact that she didn't pose it as a question but simply a mere fact. "I- I yes, that's me." He replied, slightly uncomfortable under her scrutinizing gaze who didn't seem to be getting any less hostile.

"Sam was my brother in the Night's Watch." Jon broke the uncomfortable silence the three of them held. Arya once again nodded. "I figured." She replied, but before any of them could say anything else, more snow crunched under someone's feet. Jon recognized the brown skinned woman as Missandei.

"Good morning." She said when she reached their small group. "The queen wanted me to make sure that everyone was ready." Jon stepped forward, and with the best he could muster answered. "We're ready. Is she? Or did she change her mind?" The last part of his sentence was barely above a whisper that Missandei caught anyway and smiled at him.

"The queen is ready and no she hasn't changed her mind." She informed him and Jon nodded as a smile stretched across his face. "She'll be here soon." And with that she left from where she came. The silence came back between Sam, Arya and himself.

"So, a secret wedding. Huh?" Arya asked him suddenly. Jon stared at her waiting for her to elaborate her next question. "Why's that? I would think her advisors would be happy about it." He shrugged.

"It's not her advisors that I worry about..." Arya hummed in understanding, turning once again towards the entrance of the Godswood before he even could hear someone coming. But nothing prepared him for what he saw.

Sansa.

The redhead walked elegantly —as always— like the proper lady she always aspired to be, she hadn't spotted them, but Jon immediately grew nervous, they wouldn't be able to marry with her there. As soon as this thread of thoughts left his mind, her gaze moved towards them. Her blue eyes meeting his now purple ones. She slightly cocked her head to the side in confusion, before changing course and walking towards them.

"Great." Arya muttered as Sansa was still out of earshot.

"Sam, go and tell Daenerys not to come, now!" Jon instructed and Sam nodded quickly, before turning and nodding towards Sansa in greeting when he passed her to leave the Godswood. Sansa reached her destination and stood in front of them, taller.

"To what do we owe your presence?" Arya asked her with a calm expression. Sansa huffed, but she had a small grin on her face. "Perhaps it should be me who asks that." She replied. Jon opened his mouth to come with an excuse that would have probably been discovered before Arya beat him to it. 'And thank the gods for her' he thought.

"We're reliving the days of our childhood, sparring in the Godswood in the early morrow, when mother wouldn't know." She answered with a small curve of her lips. It was true, many times in their childhood he had trained her in the early hours of morning when it was barely visible so that Lady Stark wouldn't reprimand either of them. Well, for Arya it was just reprimands, for Jon it was punishments. But he never denied helping his little sister when she wanted to wield a sword.

"I see..." Sansa said with a small frown, but she let it go quickly. "Well then, I will take this chance to speak to you Jon." Her tone turned cold and Jon had a good idea of what was coming.

"I don't trust your queen."

Jon sighed, though he expected as much if the glare fixed on her face was anything to go by. Still he decided to humor her, a newfound confidence ordering words tho come out of his mouth, that in another time he probably wouldn't have said. "She is our queen, Sansa, you'd do good to remember that." He emphasized the word our. "And give me one good reason as to why you wouldn't trust the woman who saved my life at her own cost?"

Sansa seemed taken aback but she had a steely resolution to oppose to Dany, Jon noticed.

"She saved you and I'm grateful for that. But she is no queen of mine. You are the King in the North, but perhaps men are too influenced by pretty women to act rationally." His already hard gaze, became even harder at that comment. He couldn't believe her, well, he could but it just exasperated him how stubborn and how annoyingly similar to Catelyn Stark she was right then and there.

Apparently Arya seemed to notice what was about to storm out of his mouth because she decided in that moment to speak.

"We've all noticed that you don't like or trust her Sansa. But Jon is our brother and he decided to give up his crown because we needed her help, something that I'm sure you wouldn't have done, because you care more about yourself than the rest of our people." Sansa's eyes grew angry at Arya's comment.

"Jon gave up his crown because of her pretty face and what's between her legs, like all men when put before a beautiful woman. She manipulated him into bending the knee to her and now the North won't have its well deserved independence." She declared angrily and in that moment Jon wanted to laugh, in fact he did, to the disbelief of Sansa's enraged face and Arya's amusement.

"And why are you laughing, Jon?" She huffed. Jon calmed himself, he couldn't believe how ridiculous she sounded in that moment. "Well, you've just said the most hilarious thing I've heard." He chuckled again. "The North's well deserved independence?"

"Do you think there's going to be people in the North without her help? Do you think you are going to be alive to be its queen?" He took a deep tired breath before continuing. "Sansa I know you've never been fond of me but on Ned Stark's name you know I'm no liar. You think the queen would be here if she hadn't seen one of her dragons fall to a magical ice spear? The Long Night is no joke of mine. Winter has come and the dead have come with it, if we want to survive then she is our only hope, and even then it might not be enough."

She looked surprised at his outburst, Jon always so quiet was growing frustrated with everyone around him, no one seem to understand his decisions, was he really just a fool in everyone's eyes? He didn't want his decisions to be questioned any longer. He may be a bastard in everyone's eyes but he was a king in right and blood, his decision wouldn't be questioned any longer if he had anything to say about it.

"Alright. We need her dragons but if her dragon died then why did you have to bend the knee, she would have helped nonetheless to avenge it. The North needs to remain independent we won't bow down to dragons again." Jon chuckled inwardly. He looked at Arya who stared amusedly at her sister.

'If only she knew that she was talking to a dragon.' He thought.

"Sansa listen to me carefully, the North can never be independent-" She cut him off and this annoyed him extremely. "No, Jon. You listen to me, the Northern independence it's what Robb wanted, he was the King in the North, we don't have to meddle with the southern affairs, we deserve to be free."

"Don't use Robb's name to justify this folly. And interrupt me once more Sansa and you will be excluded from all council meetings from now on. I may not be king in the north but I am the Lord of Winterfell for now. I want you to understand this. The North after the War of the Five Kings and during this upcoming winter is physically unable to survive. There's not enough food and there's not enough money to buy any more. We need the aid of the south wether you want to admit it or not." Sansa scoffed at him in utter disbelief.

"You can't forbid me to attend meetings in my own castle, and I am the rightful Lady of Winterfell, you're my brother but you don't have the Stark name." She replied and Jon for once didn't feel bad at being reminded that he wasn't a Stark. In fact he embraced the feeling of having a name more powerful, more feared, for once in his life he didn't want to accept the few crumbs that fell from the Stark's table, he wanted to burn the table whole. When he noticed Arya was about to retort, he beat her to it, placing a cold smile on his face.

"You've always wanted to be queen but you know as well as I do that you can't be queen, you don't have the birthright while she does. Your mistrust is based on plain jealousy of what she has and what you do not. She was chosen by those that follow her aside from her birthright, whilst the rest of the northern lords didn't even choose you, instead they chose me, your bastard brother who's not even a Stark." His tone came out sickly sweet and he himself was surprised with how his words dripped with venom.

Sansa was fuming, he could see that, but his blood boiled hot too, his newfound violet gaze staring at her seething blue eyes. This day that was supposed to be so happy for him and Dany, being ruined by his cousin who couldn't give up her silly dream of being queen.

Her stare gave out when a loud roar sounded through the northern snow covered plains. The snow on the red leaves of the Heart tree falling onto the ground as a loud thud landed on the Godswood of Winterfell. He turned around to be met with the green body of his designated dragon, Rhaegal. His molten gold eyes staring intently at the three of them as a puff of smoke left his nostrils.

Jon was aware of the scared girl hiding behind him and the excited girl he had to stretch his arm across so she wouldn't get near his dragon in case he decided to eat her alive.

He however, was very glad that Rhaegal was having his back. They had formed a bond similar to his own bond with Ghost, but different nonetheless. With Ghost the bond had grown as their affection and trust for one another grew, but with Rhaegal it was as if a pulsing need had been filled inside of both of them.

He walked slowly towards him as not to show his confidence with the dragon to either of the girls. He extended his hand carefully to maintain appearances, but Rhaegal didn't seem to catch on since he moved his giant head closer to him and purred at his touch, Jon couldn't help himself and he chuckled at his playfulness, he didn't look menacing at all from this view and he understood how fortunate he was to be able to accomplish such a feat as to 'tame' a dragon, even when a dragon is never tame, they are beautiful, but wild creatures and after all a part of him told him that, 'Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor.'

A dragon is not a slave...

"What are you doing here, Rhaegal?" Jon whispered as he stroke his green snout. Rhaegal seemed to be telling him something with his eyes, so Jon concentrated and his mind opened up, words appeared in his mind in a language he'd vaguely heard but deep inside of him understood. 'I came because you needed me...'

He smiled.

"Thank you, boy." Rhaegal once more purred before stepping back, out of his reach, and taking off into the sky. Jon stared as he flew off to where he and Drogon had made their lair, not far from the Dothrakiand Unsullied camps outside of Winterfell.

"Seven hells!" The silence was broken by Arya. Jon turned around and found her gaping wordlessly at him.

Sansa had found some of her composure, but she looked shaken still, he didn't really blame her, the first time the dragons flew overhead he'd ducked as if his life depended on it. She eyed him warily, but soon her face regained the anger she had before.

"They chose you because you're a man. And I'm a woman, no man wants a woman that wears a crown..." she said quietly, ignoring the fact that a dragon had stood feet before her just now. She dipped her chin and looked down for a second. Jon felt for her but that couldn't possibly be the only reason. Sansa may be Ned Stark's oldest trueborn child, but she was more southern than northern and the lords knew it. She had a scheming mind like Littlefinger and Cersei's manipulative skills. She may deny it but that's the real reason no one wanted her as queen, that and as Arya said before she isn't capable of risking her life for the rest of the people.

However, he didn't want to argue anymore though, his wedding must be moved to the next day anyhow, by this time almost everyone was awake in Winterfell and starting their activities, it was too risky. They'd have to wait.

"Sansa what do you want me to say? I'm sorry that you didn't get to be queen, but there're more important things to be worrying about." He looked pointedly at Arya, knowing she'd catch on to the meaning. Sansa looked like she wanted to say something but Arya beat her to it.

"If I remember correctly we had to hurry our sparring session because of your queen?" He smiled to himself that Arya caught on. She was always so quick, it almost made him feel as if nothing had changed... 'but it has' he reminded himself, 'you're not even her half-brother anymore.'

"Oh no, you wont leave me hanging again for her," Sansa responded, as she spat the last word Jon's eyes widened slightly, had something happened between them since they arrived that she hated her so much? "I know you love her, everyone can see that, but I won't let you jeopardize everything I've done so you can have that dragon whore." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Arya's widened eyes.

He had no idea what look was on his face but he knew it wouldn't have been anything good based on the roar that came from the sky and Arya's motioned to touch his shoulder as if to keep him in place. He shrugged her arm off, he wouldn't ever harm Sansa but she had crossed a line. Daenerys was everything to him, the reason he had to live after the battle for the dawn was won, he was his love, his family, his future wife...

The rage he felt was the feeling, he had in the vision when the Usurper killed his father on the Trident. It was all consuming, burning as hot as dragonfire through his entire system. He took a step closer to her, the thing that probably angered him the most was the fact that she didn't even look apologetic. She stepped back away from him but her face remained the same.

"If you ever dare..." his voice came out in a whisper that sounded more like a hiss from Drogon. "To say something like what you just said in front of me again... I'll have you exiled." And with that he walked away as another loud screech sounded from the skies and he knew that only a fly on Rhaegal would ease his mind at the moment.

This situation with Sansa was getting out of control, but he wouldn't hesitate to get her out of the way if she posed a serious threat to Dany's wellbeing. He'd failed her when Viserion died, he wouldn't fail her ever again.

Even if it meant losing his cousin...

➿ ** _Sansa_** ➿

How dared he?

That's what went through her head right this moment.

How dared Jon to threaten her like that? The fact that he was named King in the North didn't mean he was a trueborn Stark. He had helped her retake Winterfell and had cared for her, but maybe her lady mother was right, what if he tries to steal her right to the seat of power of house Stark. She wont go back to being a scared little girl.

She won't allow him to threaten her. No one will ever make her feel weak ever again.

"You shouldn't have said that." Arya said after moments of silence since Jon had left. She scowled at her sister in annoyance, she always preferred him over any of their other siblings, why wouldn't she choose him over her once again.

"He may be our brother but I won't allow him to take the North from me." She replied, but Arya pierced her gaze with an amused expression. She was tired of their mocking. First, Jon laughs about wanting to have an independent North and now Arya finds amusing her very serious statement.

She sighed and decided to sit on a thick branch that worked as a bench in front of the Weirwood. "I meant about Daenerys." She countered.

"Daenerys?" Sansa narrowed her eyes at her. "Since when do you call her that?" Now she was the one amused, but Arya only shrugged. "Since I talked to her last night during the feast."

"Oh!Enlighten me whatever did you talk about with the dragon queen?" She asked mockingly, she didn't have anymore time for this conversations. She had come here like every morning to try and clear her head from her night terrors. 'My dear wife...' he would call her every night. She tried no to shudder as his crooked and cruel smile made its way into her mind. 'No! He's dead. I fed him to his dogs.' She chided herself.

"She's not the villain you've been trying to depict. She's strong, yet soft, she's powerful, yet respectful. She's nothing like Cersei. She's not a tyrant," she said, but then she added "and she loves our brother." Sansa chuckled at that. She was just using him, she was a tyrant, she knew how she'd burned the Lannisters in the Reach when they did not bend the knee. Lord Tarly and his heir suffered her dragon's fury.

"You can't seriously believe that." She told Arya who just had a serious expression. How couldn't she see that Daenerys was playing poor, sullen Jon into her trap.

"Why? Because Jon is a bastard it means that a beautiful and powerful woman can't love him? Does it mean that he doesn't deserve the love he lacked while growing up because of you and mother?" Arya retorted with a cold anger Sansa found disturbing since she first saw it.

"No, of course not." She muttered, ashamed. She was ashamed at how she'd treated him. He was never less than a great brother towards her and she never even spared him a glance. She still remembered clearly that one time...

_They'd all been celebrating in the great hall, it was Robb's name day, so Jon had been allowed to sit nearby, not with them at the high table but nearer than usual. When they were done eating everyone had stood up and sat down with their friends, Robb and Arya had gone to sit beside Jon, she had gone to sit beside Jeyne Poole on the other side of the table._

_There were lemon cakes, her favorite, but there was only one left in the plate in front of her, so she got up and looked around the rest of the table, there was another plate with one other cake, so Sansa made her way to the treat, but as she arrived she saw that Jon had picked it up. She wasn't going to tell him to give it to her, it was already on his hand, but her shoulders slumped down and she thought no one had seen her but he did._

_"Umm- Sansa, would you- would you like the last lemon cake? I- I know they are your favorite..." He told her and she smiled to herself. He extended his hand with the sweet and she took it._

_She didn't even say thank you before she left and went to sit with Jeyne._

She still remembers that day and now that she's older, after all she's suffered, she realizes that a kind word wouldn't have broken her mouth, maybe now he'd take her more in consideration if she had been kinder to him in their youth.

"Jon is a good man, he deserves to be happy, but not to the cost of the north." Sana'a replied simply. Arya scowled at her angrily. "He's right you know... the North doesn't have the resources."

"We have timber. With winter coming we can trade with the Reach or the Riverlands, they will need firewood." She defended. "The north is strong, we shouldn't be involved in southern politics anymore. We've suffered enough..."

"You mean you've suffered enough." Arya countered. Sansa didn't say anything to that. She huffed, and shrugged her shoulders.

"Anyway, what were you even doing here?" She shrugged her shoulders in response. "Sometimes I come to clear my head, praying to the Seven doesn't work anymore. I thought I'd try with the old gods." Arya smirked slightly.

"Has it worked?" She shook her head softly. Nothing really seemed to work for her anymore. "That's because there's only one real god. The god of death." Arya explained vaguely. Sansa raised her eyebrows in question but Arya only smiled at her before she got up form her seat and strolled past her.

"I don't want to hear you say anything like that to Jon ever again." Arya warned, Sansa turned and saw her standing near the exit of the Godswood. "And I suggest you go and have a conversation with the queen. You'll find out she's not as bad as you think." With that she left her to the solitude she'd come searching for.

Sansa found herself walking out of the Godswood, Brienne stood outside, as usual. She knew that if she wasn't in her room at this time, this was the next place to look. "Lady Brienne." She acknowledged her with a polite smile. Her sworn sword noddedat her respectfully in reply.

The courtyard was already bustling with the first activities of the day, but her eye was caught by the silver figure overlooking everything from one of the walkways in the top part of the keep, beside her stood her Essosi handmaiden. The queen seemed more radiant than ever, her hair was mostly out of her usual intricate braids, she wore a beautiful winter coat even more elegant than the one she wore the day of her arrival.

The dragon patterns designed on it were something Sansa could admit was admirable, she enjoys doing her needlework very much so she knew how hard they must have been to turn out so perfect. She adverted her gaze when she noticed the queen turned towards her. She felt her burning gaze on her, so she decided to heed Arya's suggestion, not that it would do much. Sansa knew who they could and couldn't trust. She wasn't one of them, she was a dragon, and dragons are dangerous, one minute they're calm and the next they break everything you've ever worked for.

She hoped that Jon wouldn't get burn playing with a dragon. He was ice not fire, and fire melts ice.

Sansa made her way towards the dragon queen, her face was set hard and determined as she stood in front of the short silver haired woman.

"Lady Stark." She said curtly, her handmaiden nodding her head respectfully as well. She looked behind her and saw Brienne. "You're Lady Brienne of Tarth, correct?" She asked carefully. Her eyes scrutinizing both of them.

"Yes, your grace." She responded with a nod. The queen smiled lightly, how could a fake smile look so real was beyond Sansa. Not even Cersei had been able to hide her true colors as well as this queen. "I've seen you training in the courtyard my lady, allow me to congratulate you, you're a fine warrior, it is my understanding there's not many female warriors in Westeros?"

"You honor me, your grace. It is indeed not common to find women who decide to take arms instead of husbands, and I'm not a lady." Lady Brienne answered, her tone lighter than she'd ever heard her. The queen laughed at this, relaxed. "You're so very right, if you're not a lady then I shall call you Ser Brienne of Tarth."

"I can't be a knight, your grace. I'm a woman." The lady warrior answered and Sansa was reminded of Arya's ramblings of joining the Kingsguard when she was young. The queen's smile never wavered but it tightened slightly. "Perhaps." She mused. "We shall see who will deny a queen with two dragons." With that she turned her attention towards Sansa and her warm face wavered and hardened slightly.

"Is there something that you require, Lady Stark?" She asked, her violet gaze burning through her like Jon's had done.

"Your grace." She curtsied perfectly as she'd always been trained to. "I was hoping we could have a conversation." The queen looked at her, a glint of amusement behind her eyes. "Is this a good time? I was told by my brother he had plans with you, just now."

"Indeed. But something seemed to be bothering him greatly, so we decided to postpone. This is as great a time as any. Walk with me, I was on my way out to check on my Khalasar." Sansa nodded trying to contain her grimace, she didn't want to be near those pillagers and rapers of her. "Don't worry my lady, you shan't enter if you so wish, but my Dothraki are very respectful of their Khaleesi... and guests."

They made their way down towards the courtyard and out through the doors of the keep. "Well, what is it you wanted to discuss, Lady Stark?" She asked.

"I'm aware that my brother cares for you. I would like to hear your thoughts on the matter." She said bluntly, if she loved him like Arya said then she'd try to decipher wether it was true or not, if she denied then the approach she used would change.

"My thoughts on the matter are mine and mine alone." She responded harshly, her eyes locking on Sansa, no emotion slipping past her mask of a face. Sansa didn't break eye contact. "However, I'm sure you're just looking out for your brother and I value that, sibling back up." She continued. "If it would reassure you, I do care for your brother, very much." Her eyebrows soften at the mention of Jon. This she noticed.

"Why?" Sansa asked, she was going to try and make the most out of this conversation. "I love my brother, but we know what people say about his status as a bastard, and we know the lords think him a fool that was seduced by you, your grace. So why do you care for him? He's bent the knee like you wanted." The queen stared at her, amusement shimmering through.

"The ex Lord Commander seduced by foreign dragon queen? What a tale." She replied as she chuckled behind her hand. "If someone's seduced someone, I'd say it was your brother. As you can see I'm the one who's armies are camped in Winterfell and not his forces camped on Dragonstone or outside King's Landing." Sansa stared at her coldly, did she think of this as a joke? When Sansa was about to retort, the queen sighed.

"You're probably not aware, but I've been forced to marry just as yourself, and like you I know what it feels to be defiled and humiliated by a man." She took a deep breath, shielding herself from the looks of it, but Sansa knew it couldn't be worse than Ramsay. Nothing could ever be worse than Ramsay. "I was sold by my brother to my husband, a Dothraki Khal. The Khal of Khals they called him." She mused.

"He raped me on my wedding night and many nights after that, until I wanted to die. But then I became heavy with child and I thought everything would change, and so he promised me the Seven Kingdoms, but he was killed along with my stillborn child before he could give them to me." Sansa took a deep breath, that was a sad story, it seemed personal she didn't understand why she was telling her this, maybe to endear her towards her?

"I'm very sorry, your grace." She answered. The queen gave her a look. But she opened her mouth once more. "Don't be, my lady. I'm strong because I've been weak. And their deaths gave me three wonderful children, my dragons." She stopped walking and faced Sansa directly. "So then I began my conquest, I was the Mother of Dragons, I became Queen of Mereen after I freed Slaver's Bay. And then I allowed a man into my bed. He claimed to love me, but you know what he once told me, that I was nothing without my dragons, of course I didn't love him back, but once more I felt uneasy by the words of a man." Sansa was very confused to the turn the conversation was taking.

"I see you're perplexed, Lady Stark. Did you or did you not ask me why I care for your brother, even as a bastard?" The queen asked with that expression that seems to be mocking her. "I did." She replied firmly.

"Jon is different than any man I've ever met. He doesn't need to boast about himself to make one know what he's capable of, he's kind and respectful but he demands authority with his presence, he's not afraid of speaking his mind or voicing his disagreement. But most of all Jon, gives me peace." She admitted with an easy smile. "He has given me the only thing I never thought I'd find."

"Jon is a good man, your grace. He deserves some happiness." Sansa contributed. She had no idea what this confessionary session was for the queen, but Sansa was uneasy, by her tales and apparent honesty. "He's kept me safe ever since I found him again."

"I have no doubt, my lady. He would die for any of his men, even more so for his sister." Sansa stared at her, she obviously knew about the mutiny if they'd been bedding each other. "And I would as well, I care about all of my people, be it Westerosi or Essosi, be it freed slaves, common folk or high lords. I wish for us to find an agreement, I know you don't trust me much, neither do the rest of the lords, but I'd like to hear what it is you all want from me."

Sansa took this as her opportunity to bring up what she'd come for in the first place, to see her reaction to her request. "Northern Independence."

The queen widened her eyes, and laughed, just like Jon had, but more gracefully. "Forgive me, Lady Stark." She apologized when she'd calmed, probablynoticing the scowl Sansa wore at being laughed at by this Targaryen dragonspawn. "But this request is simply impossible for me to allow, my people of the North would perish without the aid of the South. I've spoken of this with your brother, he agrees with me. I wonder what makes you think that it is possible though?" Her eyebrow rose in question.

"The North is strong, we have our timber and trade could sustain us during this winter, many keeps still maintain their glasshouses functional. We are tired of being involved in the politics of the South." She replied determinately. Too long she'd been denied of her wishes by everyone, this she would get, whatever she had to do to get it she would.

"The North or you, my lady?" The queen questioned and Sansa grew tired of hearing Jon's words coming from her. "I know you don't want to see it, but I ask you to think of everyone else, the winter is said to be very cold here, are you willing to see children die frozen? I've seen burnt and crucified children sadly and I tell you it's not a pretty sight. I can't imagine what frozen children look like."

"I care about my people. I'd keep them safe." She defended. "How though? It is my understanding you couldn't even keep your people safe against the battle with Ramsay Bolton, had you told your brother of the Knights of the Vale, maybe you'd kept your people from dying. I wonder why you didn't..." she started walking again, and Sansa followed enraged at her accusations, but she wouldn't let it show.

"You have no idea what kind of a monster he was. If I'd told someone he'd found a way to win. He was too smart and cruel." She told her without letting her fear for him betray her. She stopped once more, and as she stood in front of her she took her hand. "I'm sorry you had to go through his tortures, my lady. I wish I could have spared you the pain." She let it go. "But you see, your brother was named King in the North, so you are aware that he is the one that should make this request, not you. The lords didn't consider you because you allowed their men to enter a slaughter."

"It was not my intention to let them die, but if Ramsay had known that we had another army he would have made us siege Winterfell and we didn't have the supplies and even then he would have found a way to sneak into our camp and capture me again. I had no choice." The queen smiled at her, but she seemed displeased. She leaned toward to whisper in her ear.

"Very well. Although I suggest you consider the fact that some would think you didn't even want your brother to come out of that battle, so you'd be queen instead of him..." she leaned back and as Sansa reminded speechless she walked away and entered her Dothraki camp with her handmaiden and Unsullied guards following.

"Are you alright, my lady?" Brienne asked her and Sansa managed a tight lipped smile and a nod to reassure her.

Inside of her, the anger was swirling around uncontrollably, she was as furious as one could be.

How dared she?

That's what went through her head at this moment.

That, and the fact that she wouldn't allow her to win. She already had Jon in her clutches, and she was trying to take Arya too.

If she wanted to play like this, then Sansa would give her a hell of a game.

This, she vowed, by the old gods and the new...


	8. The Impossible

**_➿Daenerys➿_ **

That had gone well...

Daenerys was completely annoyed by Sansa Stark that morning. She had ruined her secret wedding to the man she loved and then had made him so angry she'd told him to meet with her later. Then she had the audacity to come and ask her if she actually cared about her brother, when she should be the one asking her that.

From what she knew about the so called 'Battle of the Bastards', Jon and his men almost died because she hadn't told him about the reinforcements coming from the Vale, and ever since Jon told her this in one of their early morning conversations in bed, she's thought that maybe it was her plan all along, for him to die in that field.

Westeros wouldn't favor a woman over a man who went into battle to fight with his men, even if he was considered a bastard, and Sansa knew this. She wouldn't have the backing of the Freefolk who were completely loyal to Jon, unless he died. She would have been crowned Queen of the North...

'She's always wanted to be queen... since she was a little girl. I would have let her be queen, I never really wanted any tittles.' Jon had said, that time when he told her the story of how he came to be king. 'Ever since I was crowned she always tried to undermine me with the rest of the lords, it wouldn't surprise me if she had told them you'd burned me alive...' he had said it as a jest, but now Dany realized the truth behind those words.

"Your grace?" Missandei interrupted her thoughts. "Are you thinking about Lady Stark or about... the other thing?" Daenerys tensed immediately at the mention of that... other thing. That was the main reason of her visit to the Dothraki camp, she didn't know what to think.

"I'm thinking about Lady Stark, my friend." She told her. "I don't want to think too much about the rest, I'm already disappointed for my failed wedding..."

"I think you should let yourself believe, your grace. You're famous for accomplishing impossible things..." her dear friend reassured her, but she wouldn't let herself hope. She couldn't, or she would break.

If I look back, I am lost.

"Perhaps." She answered with a polite smile. Missandei didn't say anything else after as they walked. Her thoughts then drifted to Jon and their meeting less than an hour ago. Daenerys had never seen him so angry, his gaze burned with rage, much like hers does, he paced in front of her to try and calm himself down, but he wouldn't tell her what had made him so angry, he'd also that their wedding had to be postponed because Sansa made an appearance in the Godswood.

From that she managed to gather that the object of his anger was something Sansa said, and after their encounters and conversations since she'd arrived, she could quickly determine that the conversation was about her.

Daenerys sighed, Sansa caused more trouble than what she should, obviously she didn't know that Jon's anger can end up with him burning the castle because of his bond with Rhaegal. That was another thing she'd been thinking about, ever since he first rode Rhaegal, her connection with him had changed. Her son stopped sharing most of his feelings to her, she assumed that instead he opted to share them with his rider. She was glad about that, that way both of them are safer. Jon flying on top of him during battle, and Rhaegal being steered off unnecessary danger he could put himself into.

Finally, they reached the tent of the Dothraki healers. Dany inhaled deeply before they parted the tent flap to allow themselves entrance. Her Unsullied guards stood firmly outside. As soon as she entered, the women stood up and lowered their heads in respect towards her.

"Khaleesi." The acknowledged her, and she waved them off with a smile. "Qoy qoy." She answered.

A young girl approached her timidly and asked her in Dothraki. "Are you feeling alright, Khaleesi?" Daenerys took her hand and smiled.

"Yes... but I've been having difficulty keeping my meals down." She confessed almost timidly. She couldn't let herself believe... the girl smiled slightly and gestured to one of the older women to come forward, Daenerys recognized her, Yirri if she remembered correctly.

"Khaleesi, no blood this month?" Yirri asked. Daenerys shook her head, it had been a while since her last moon blood, but ever since the witch cursed her, the blood came whenever it wanted, sometimes three moons would pass and there wouldn't be any blood. "Lie down, Khaleesi. And we will tell you if a Khalakka is inside you."

Her breath hitched as she was instructed to take off her coat and lie down, her gown underneath was unclasped as well and it left her front exposed, with only a woolen shift for cover. Yirri instructed the young girl to prepare some herbs for her and then shifted her attention towards Daenerys. She moved her hands towards her breasts and squeezed them firmly. Her brows furrowed.

She then moved to press on her lower stomach and she caused Dany to wince a little. She only hummed as she moved towards the girl who held a small bowl that had a completely unappealing scent. She hoped she wouldn't have to drink it.

"Khaleesi, you must relieve yourself in this." She said. "If color change, you have Khalakka, if color doesn't change, then no Khalakka." Daenerys nodded in comprehension and with Missandei's assistance dressed herself again. When she was ready they placed a cloth on the bowl and she gave it to Missandei to hold as they walked back to the keep.

"Qoy qoy." She announce before leaving, in a way to say thank you, since the Dothraki didn't have a word for it. The women replied with a small smile and with a "Khaleesi." as she exited the tent and the cool breeze enveloped her again.

"What do you think, Missandei?" Daenerys heard herself ask her dearest advisor and friend. "You think it's possible?" Her friend gave her sheepish smile but her eyes shone happily. "I think Jon Snow was right, your grace. You shouldn't believe the words of a witch who wished you harm."

_'When the sun sets in the East and rises in the West... an impossible thing.'_

_'But so is rising from the death and walking unscathed from a blazing fire...'_

Daenerys could only nod at Missandei after that, but she decided to speak to her about something else she had asked her to do.

"Have you been doing what I asked you, my friend?" Daenerys inquired.

Missandei nodded firmly. "Yes, your grace. There hasn't been anything good so far..." she confirmed sadly.

Dany had asked her to keep her ears open, to listen to anything that could concern her. Missandei, Greyworm and Ser Jorah, were the only ones in her council that she trusted utterly and completely. The ones she knew were only loyal to her.

Tyrion had been failing her as of late. His mistake in taking Casterly Rock, was one she could not afford to make again. His useless meeting with Cersei, had only caused her the loss of dear Viserion and almost Jon's death before they could even be honest about their feelings for each other. Displeased wasn't a word good enough to label her discomfort at Tyrion's incompetence.

But the one she trusted less than Tyrion was Varys. He was a spider, with his intertwined web of secrets, no one really knew were his loyalties lied, ever. This was a problem, she'd known of ever since he had appeared to her in Meereen, because of that she had already warned him what would happen if he dared to betray her.

He would burn...

"As expected... tell me what you've heard, please." Daenerys murmured quietly and Missandei, smart as ever communicated her findings in a tongue none in Winterfell would understand, Valyrian.

"The distrust seems astonishing to me... they are ungrateful if you ask me." She started. "All I've heard are complaints and falsehoods." Daenerys couldn't say she was surprised, they were all incredibly proud and stubborn, she now understands why Jon hadn't bent the knee as quick she wanted him to. They would have certainly named his sister who was the worst option if they wanted to survive. "Your brother I presume, and a Lady Lyanna have been one of the points of focus. There's much hatred towards him, therefore towards you, my queen."

Dany nodded grimly. She knew the truth, but they did not. She couldn't really blame them for hating Rhaegar, but why should she pay for his mistakes, or her father's when she wasn't even born? She's tried to show people that she isn't a tyrant, but they've always seem to picture her as one. She was tired of it...

Missandei seemed to be battling with herself to say something else as Dany gazed upon her.

Her brows furrowed and relaxed a couple of times, before she finally opened her mouth and spoke the words she'd been trying to bring herself to utter. "There's something that I think you should know but won't want to even think about after I tell you..." her friend warned carefully. Daenerys tensed at this. What could possibly be that bad? "I've asked Lord Varys about it and he managed to find more information about it..."

"Varys? He knows about whatever this is? Why hasn't he told me if it's as important as you say?" She inquired curiously, an eyebrow raised questioningly.

"I spoke with him yesterday evening and we came to the realization that perhaps you'd take it better coming from me." Missandei replied shyly and Daenerys nodded curtly, tired, she wanted to just hear it without so much fuss.

"Just say it, Missandei, I will try to keep my cool." She half jested half reassured her. Missandei's attempt at a small smile looked more like a grimace and soon Daenerys understood why. As the words fell from the girl beside her, Daenerys' face hardened and her blood boiled as hot as the flames her children let out at her command.

I will burn this whole castle to the ground before I let that happen... she vowed to herself.

"How have you acquire this information? And you say Varys' little birds confirmed it? How...?" Daenerys confronted. Missandei nodded her head. "Lord Varys urged me to tell you as soon as possible when you were relaxed, I thought a little after the wedding would let you have some joy before informing you of this." 

"The other night I found myself without sleep, so I decided to find some tea in the kitchens. I-I overheard steps and didn't think any of it at first, but voices grew louder and I could hear the steps nearing so I quickly hid and listened in to them..." Missandei explained. "I then decided to ask Lord Varys to investigate, perhaps it had been a jest between two drunk men, but yesterday evening he confirmed it, claiming a suspicious conversation was seen." With that Daenerys took off.

Her advisor kept quiet as Daenerys' pace intensified to reenter the courtyard of Winterfell and look for Jon immediately. She was burning on the inside and knew that the dragon had awoken inside her, but she'd really like to witness another dragon in his burning rage.

Finally she caught sight of him, sparring and giving tips as he hit his opponent with the flat of his blade. She realized this was Lady Brienne's squire, was it Patrick? No, Podrick! She remembered now. His hair was untied as she liked it best, but she couldn't relish the moment to take him in, because she neede to be quick about this manner and extremely careful. She knew he'd react loudly.

She made her presence known to both men and Jon's other companions that observed their sparring, by clearing her throat. She immediately caught Jon's attention who in two moves disarmed Podrick to turn his attention to her, not before muttering words of praise to the squire. He stepped towards her and bowed his head. "Your grace." He said in his deep voice, for a moment making her forget the rage and fury she still felt.

"Lord Snow, a word." She tried to keep her tone calm but she knew he noticed something was amiss. "Of course, your grace." He replied swiftly, passing his blunted sword to one of the other men and instructing them to keep sparring. She made eye contact with him and his violet eyes that she couldn't help but find intriguing still. She knew he noticed the fire that burned in her amethyst eyes. His gaze hardened as he understood there was a problem angering her.

Jon had walked with her to the crypts, Missandei excusing herself from the pair and the Unsullied guards standing outside the entrance of said place. Daenerys tried to take deep breaths and calm her inner turmoil for theirs and the rest of the castle's inhabitants safety. As soon as they reached his mother's statue, which seemed to give comfort to Jon, he voiced his curiosity.

"Dany, what's happened? Did- did Sansa do something?" He asked with concern, Daenerys was trying to memorize his face right now for when he exploded. "Jon, I did speak to Sansa, but that's not what I want to tell you right now..." she begun.

"This is much more dangerous... and infuriating." She uttered coldly. "You have to promise me not to do anything rash before we've made a plan." He eyed her weirdly but nodded his head, slowly in agreement.

"We'll figure it out together." He confirmed.

"I had instructed Missandei to keep an ear open to any information that could be useful." She started. "I expected mostly servant gossip about what the lords said... but I never thought any of them would even think to plan something like this." Jon's worry became more prominent in his comely features she so adored.

"Daenerys." He said.

Not Dany, he knows this is completely serious.

"What did she hear?"

"She overheard two lords... Glover and Royce, talking about an assassination attempt, and fleeing back to their keeps." She muttered. Jon's eyes burned, but she knew they'd be even hotter when she finished. "Are you sure? They're plotting to kill you, Dany?"

She slowly shook her head. "No... not me, my love. They want the head of... the king who knelt." She whispered. His shock showed clearly on his face, violet eyes wide, mouth agape, brows raised as high as humanly possible. She took his left hand, the right was clutching tightly to the pommel of his Valyrian Steel sword.

Slowly the shock was burned away by raw, frightening fury, as his eyes lit ablaze and all his facial muscle clenched, his knuckles turned white atop the white wolf pommel. "Jon?" She tried, being careful, the dragon was awake, alert and it didn't look like it would go to sleep anytime soon, she felt bad that it aroused her.

"What do we know?" He whispered in a chilling voice that could have rivaled the ice on the Wall. Daenerys looked straight at him and sighed. "Not much, I'm afraid, for more that I want to unleash Drogon on them. Missandei said Lord Varys informed her that the only thing he'd heard was that another failed King in the North would fall by the steel of a blade..."

"Another mutiny..." he murmured. "They're going to kill me again... and there's no one to bring me back to you, Dany..." Daenerys' heart clenched to know she was the first thing he thought about.

"I won't let that happen. I vowed to burn this castle to the ground before letting them take you away from me, my king." She told him passionately. His gaze that had fallen towards the stone ground, returned to her eyes. At that moment when he looked at her like that, so fierce and passionate, she wanted to tell him of her suspicions. She decided it was not the moment, not until she was absolutely and completely sure it was real and not a fantasy she'd imagined to ease her pain of not being able to give him children.

"What do we do? What do we do?" He asked frantic. "We don't have any fucking proof... I can't execute them only because someone eavesdropped on their conversation or because Varys' spies heard him, it's not enough..." He'd started pacing in front of her, never letting go of the pommel on his sword. "Jon." She tried but he wasn't looking at her, instead his anger had mixed with his natural brooding facade and at that moment he seemed more impenetrable than the Eyrie. "Jon!"

"Jon!"

"Jaehaerys!" She exclaimed exasperated and at that name he finally looked at her, the look in his eyes hadn't changed, violent fire was burning and a dragon was preparing to kill. "I wan to burn them alive..." he said coolly, his voice low and filled with danger.

"Beheading or hanging is too much a mercy for mutineers and traitors... I won't have traitors in my army, Daenerys. I won't..." he declared as a king would any decree. She couldn't even imagine what that kind of betrayal must have felt like, to be killed and then see the faces of your killers. For her it would be like Jon killing her... a pain so insufferably painful she couldn't even fathom it... not that he ever would, he was much too loyal, and he loved her, just as she loved him.

"Then they shall perish to Rhaegal's flames at your command." She told him fiercely. He looked as determined as he was when they'd first met on that throne room, trying to convince her of the existence of a children's tale. Now she wished he had actually been jesting.

Surprising her, he leaned forward and pressed a hungry kiss on her lips, both of them opening their mouths to taste each other. He wasn't gentle like usual, he was taking what was his and she liked to see him like this. After few minutes of holding on to the other's body and sharing hot kisses, they broke apart.

" I will tell Varys to keep sending his little birds to find any proof they can, so that we prove their guilt." She reassured him, to which he nodded contemplatively.

"Aye. And I will tell Arya to gather information with her... skills of hiding and whatever it is she learned on Braavos." He added. Daenerys nodded. "Are you ok, though? You think you'll be alright having to face them?" She asked.

"I don't think I'll ever be alright about this kind of plots. But I have the most wonderful woman by my side who keeps me determined to stay rational and sane about it." He took her hand in his and brought it up to his lips to lay chaste kiss.

Like that, hand in hand, they walked back towards the outside world. As soon as they stepped out of the privacy of the crypts they let go of each other's hands and the Unsullied fell on step behind them both.

He glanced at her. "Your grace, I better go and train, let out some... energy." Anger. She knew.

"You do that, my lord and I shall see you later I suppose." She expressed at what he bowed his head in respect for any eyes watching and walked away, once again holding the pommel of his sword.

As she walked towards her chambers to try and find Missandei who had taken the Dothraki bowl with her, Daenerys could hear the grunts and groans of men below her. She leaned on the banister and saw Jon- no, that was Jaehaerys, who moved skillfully and aggressively like a dragon, as he was surrounded by five men who held blunted swords and that took turns falling to the ground by her soon-to-be husband's parries and attacks.

She sighed. Let him blow off some steam, a dragon doesn't like to feel caged. She thought as she retook her path to her initial destination.

***

The afternoon had turned to evening and the evening to night. She'd had her meals brought to her chambers, where she'd eaten on her own. She knew Jon had to show himself before the Northern and Vale lords every night in the Great Hall, so she didn't worry.

During the afternoon she'd had a conversation with Varys that had confirmed everything Missandei had already relied to her. The Master of Whispers had been relieved that she knew about it and had confirmed that his little birds were already trying to find any proof they could to prove the treason.

After it though, Dany sat on the desk provided in her chambers with the bowl in front of her, as if it were taunting her, but for more that she tried to convince herself to take a hold of it and do what she had to do. She couldn't bring herself to do it.

She had touched her flat stomach wondering if maybe there was something in there, if she'd feel a heat like the one she felt with her scaled children. But alas nothing came. She didn't know what to believe... and who could blame her? The curse had been her insecurity for such a long time, the fear that House Targaryen would die with her... now she knew it could still live through Jon, but she knew that Jon would never set her aside for anyone even if she herself asked it of him.

They would be the last of their House, the last dragons and the last of the dragon riders of Old Valyria.

The fact that she might be pregnant could change all that, they could make a new dynasty, trying to change the mistakes of their fathers.

Rhaegar's and Aerys'.

Try to change how everyone saw them... to be more than just the daughter and grandson of the Mad King. Because she knew that's what everyone would start calling him when they'd reveal the truth. That's what they'd be for everyone, the Mad King's daughter and grandson who will bring more madness to Westeros.

She knew how they'd treat him, just as they did her... as if she would break any moment. A show of anger to the lords would be a show of madness.

'It's not madness... it's Targaryen anger...' A voice would whisper in her head from time to time. 'Dragons are driven by passion and fire, there's nothing to reign in their fury.'

Now it was well into the night, Jon had come and gone from her chambers and she still pondered on the bowl, trying to muster the courage to pee in it. She felt like a coward, but eventually she fell into a deep sleep, which proved to be very enlightening to her dilemma.

_She walked on dirty sand, a graying sky overhead, threatening to release a violent storm for everyone to see. The waves didn't quite reach her feet as she stepped along the shore. Far off, in a high hill, stood a dark castle she recognized._

_'She'd been here before...'_

_Dragonstone._

_As she neared the majestic castle, she noticed the silhouette of a person, just a little taller than her, but of a lean build, most likely a woman. She tried to make out her features as she stood watching the horizon and the crashing waves._

_Soon Daenerys was just at arm's length and she saw her own long silver hair and pale skin. The woman was beautiful, she noticed. A thin gown that seemed too light for the heavy breeze that grazed her skin, gave her a curvy figure._

_"I've been expecting you." The woman said, and Daenerys felt something churn inside her. An indescribable feeling of warmth not even the strongest fire had been able to give her. At her words Dany knew who she was._

_Queen Rhaella Targaryen._

_Her mother..._

_"I know how you've been feeling, my daughter." Her mother said with a caring tone. "I know you feel scared, but you're Daenerys Stormborn and the impossible doesn't scare you."_

_She managed to open her mouth. "I'm cursed. Blood magic took my child and my husband from me, mother." She said. "There's nothing I can do. Only death can pay for life."_

_Her mother finally turned to her with a delicate smile gracing her lovely features that had an uncanny resemblance to hers. "And you've paid the price, my sweet child."_

_"I have not. My dragons were the result of the exchange. I can't have children because they're the only children I'll ever have." Daenerys replied sadly. Rhaella placed her palm on her cheek to caress it softly._

_"And you've paid again, sweet Viserion has left the living and your womb has quicken again." She explained and Dany couldn't believe her ears._

_'Could it be?'_

_"I- I can't let myself hope... If I look back I am lost." She answered. "I can't keep wishing my Rhaego wasn't the only child I'd bear."_

_"The seed is strong." Her mother continued. "Dragon seed is stronger. Have you not found a dragon who can give you the life you've paid for?"_

_Daenerys bit her lip. She hadn't thought of that, what if the fact that they both had dragon's blood had anything to do with it?_

_"Do you think Jaehaerys and I could have a child together, mother?" She asked deciding to use his real name. Her mother smiled at her._

_"Why, that is the only way you'll have a child." She answered simply, a mystified look appearing on her face. The background started to blurry._

_"Only death can pay for life... you've paid the price, only once you have a chance, doesn't mean it must be one, but your womb shall see its end, when a babe is born with breath." Her mother chanted the words as if they were the source of everything in this world. And as she said this, Daenerys lost sight of her face and everything around her._

_She didn't wake, which meant she had something else to see._

_She appeared in what appeared to be a solar, it was full of stray parchment, and decorated with Targaryen banners and colors. A desk stood in the center of it. A man sat there reading desperately through a big old tome that seemed too damaged to make out what it said._

_The man kept saying things to himself, but not in a way that would lead her to believe he was mad, but in a way that made her tired, as if a heavy weight rested on his shoulders alone._

_His silver hair let her know he was part of her family. She knew it couldn't be her father, he was too young and well kept, neither could it be Viserys,he'd never read..._

_She figured it out as he looked up from his hurried reading and his indigo eyes fixed with her violet ones._

_Crown Prince Rhaegar Targaryen. Jon's father and her eldest brother._

_"The dragon must have three heads..."_

_"The prince who was promised must bring the dawn for his is the song of ice and fire."_

_"The song of ice and fire..."_

_"The dragon must have three heads..."_

_"Three."_

_"Three heads."_

_"Three children you must have, for the song of ice and fire."_

_Daenerys stared entranced until he too faded and she felt as if she was falling and then suddenly she hit the back of a soft surface._

She was back in her bed.

Immediately all signs of sleep were cleared from her and she jumped out of the bed and hurried to the bowl that waited for her on the desk.

Quickly putting it in her chamber pot, she braced herself and relieved herself. She cleaned up and stood, glancing at the wetted bowl and looking at it as if it were the most precious thing in the world. She stared and stared for minutes.

Right when she thought the color wouldn't change, she saw as the light brown color started to turn pitch black and Daenerys felt herself moved back to sit on her bed so she wouldn't fall.

The color had changed.

She glanced at her abdomen, no change in its appearance noticeable, but she placed her hand there nonetheless and finally allowed herself to reminisce in the greatest happiness she'd ever had.

She was with child.

**_➿Tyrion➿_ **

Tyrion strangely didn't found himself as he did most days now. There was no cup in his hand and instead of sitting bundled up in his room, he was on one of the balconies that overlooked Winterfell's training yard, where the former King in the North was certainly hurting many egos.

He watched mesmerized, as Jon Snow slashed, parried, kicked and sent tumbling to the floor all the opponents that came against him. His movements were quick and would have been deadly if it were a real battle. It certainly hadn't been an exaggeration to say he was probably the best swordsman of the Seven Kingdoms now. His brother Jaime who was standing beside him at the moment, had that honor until he lost his sword hand.

Jaime was flanked by two of the queen's Unsullied, as had been commanded, which stood a few steps behind them. Tyrion looked up towards his brother and he saw that he had a curious expression as he observed the Bastard of Winterfell.

"Well, I believe we both can agree who holds the tittle of the best swordsman in the Seven Kingdoms now, don't you think?" Tyrion told him, but that didn't seem to snap him out of his curious gaze, so Tyrion tried once more. "Oh don't be jealous brother, you were glorious in your prime." He laughed.

Jaime finally seemed to remember and acknowledge his presence and so he turned slightly towards Tyrion. "There's something that is not sitting right with me." He mumbled.

"What? The fact that a bastard is better than you? I thought you were pass this, brother." He chastised him jestingly. He knew Jaime had become a much better person since the loss of his hand, but a Lannister ego could be as high as the Wall.

"No, not that." Jaime finally seemed to snap out of it and faced him. "There's something about the whole of him that just nags at my memories and it frustrates me that I can't decipher what." He confessed and Tyrion wondered. He'd had the same feeling when he'd seen his new Valyrian eyes.

"Perhaps is as the rumors say and he's Ned Stark and Ashara Dayne's bastard? With that swordsmanship I would believe him to be related to the Sword of the Morning..." Tyrion mused but Jaime shook his head.

"No, I knew Ser Arthur and Ashara well, he doesn't look like a Dayne. It's something else..." Jaime trailed off and Tyrion decided to change the topic of conversation to something else that had been bothering him.

"Well, I believe he will be king soon enough." Tyrion said and this caught Jaime's attention. "You mean he and the queen?" Tyrion nodded with a suggestive smirk.

"Of course..." Jaime chuckled. "They looked synchronized well enough." Tyrion chuckled as well.

"What do you think about that, Lord Hand?" He let out a sigh. Tyrion honestly wasn't sure what to think about the whole ordeal. He was sure that Jon Snow was a good man, honorable to a fault and a bit of a fool if he was being honest. He wasn't the type to play the game and he certainly wasn't fit to be king in a nest of vipers like King's Landing, he was too honest and open in Tyrion's opinion. Although in the beginning he'd had the idea of having them marry, now he wasn't so sure about it.

The queen was clearly enamored with him and he with her. Love normally posses a problem over everything, he didn't want to sound like Cersei but the more you love the weaker you are. The both times he'd allowed himself to love he'd been fucked up, now he was guarded and careful about it and now it seemed he had to be for his queen as well.

His plans had been failing as of late, with the capture of Ellaria Sand and her daughters as well as Lady Olenna's cornering in High Garden resulting in her death, everything he could think about now was not failing Daenerys anymore.

His thoughts were interrupted though, when Varys arrived to stand beside him.

"Lord Varys." He greeted the Spider, who gave him a nod in acknowledgment. "My Lord Hand."

Jaime scoffed slightly and turned to leave but Varys stopped him. "Ser Jaime, I was hoping I could talk with you as well." His brother looked pointedly at the eunuch and raised a questioning eyebrow. "And why is that, Spider?"

"Perhaps you can confirm my suspicions about something that might change everything." He shrugged it off, now Tyrion was intrigued.

"What is this thing you say will change everything? And what is everything, my friend?" He questioned and Varys just looked at him with his usual look of 'I-know-everything-that-is-going-on-and-you-don't'

"Have any of you noticed something about our queen's favorite northerner down there?" He asked gesturing towards the warrior who fought viciously still against the people in the training yard, said he were getting rid of some uncontrollable anger. Tyrion shivered involuntarily, he wouldn't want to be the point of focus of that anger.

"Of course," he answered mater of factly. "His eyes have turned purple for a strange reason he's not telling us. I've read enough to know there's no such thing as an infection that changes the color of your eyes. But what does that have to do with anything? He has the blood of the First Men, magic surrounds him, if you haven't noticed the huge dire wolf." Varys smirked slightly.

"Have you considered he may have another type of blood too? Another magical type?" He inquired and Tyrion realized what he implied.

"You think he has Valyrian blood?" Jaime was staring at Varys as if he were trying to figure him out. 'Good luck, brother. We've been trying to do that for a long, long time.'

"Hasn't he already ridden a dragon?" Varys answered with another question. Tyrion nodded absentmindedly, perhaps Varys was going somewhere interesting with this. "I believe that's two." He answered and the Master of Whispers rolled his eyes at his suggestion.

"So what, his mother had Valyrian blood, maybe she was a whore from Lys." Both Varys and Jaime looked at him as if this were a dumb suggestion. "You think Ned Stark would be with a whore? It was already unbelievably surprising he'd fathered a bastard even if the Rebellion was on and..." Jaime had been saying until he stopped mid sentence.

"Yes, Ser Jaime?" Varys said. Jaime stared daggers at him and then turned to leave abruptly. The unsullied followed behind him quietly. Tyrion was beyond himself, what had just happened?

"I see your brother has come to the conclusion I've come to, although I really do not know how I didn't find out before. Ned Stark was indeed too honorable to father a bastard." Tyrion snorted. "Need I remind you that such bastard is standing down there?"

Varys shook his head with a small smile that suggested to those who knew him that he was scheming something. "Perhaps not. We'll talk about this another time, Lord Tyrion." And with that the robed man was off, walking to who knows where.

What had just happened?

Jaime had vanished in a hurry, Varys was plotting something regarding the Bastard of Winterfell and Tyrion found himself completely confused about whatever any of it meant. Jon Snow had always been a mystery to most, after all it already is a rare instance that a high lord raises his bastard alongside his trueborn children, but to add to that no one really knew what had happened to his mother, not even the man in question.

Tyrion remembered the road north towards the Wall, and the then boy's disconcert about finding out the Night's Watch wasn't a noble organization anymore. Why didn't Ned Stark tell his son about what awaited him if he seemed to love him so much as to raise him?

Well, it's not as if the headless man could answer him, so Tyrion decided to go back to contemplating the fight below. Ned Stark had taken the secret of Jon Snow's mother to the grave, so now he couldn't grasp why it was important to Varys.

Who could she be that could change everything? That was a question that would remain unanswered, for a while at least if Varys' look was anything to go by.

What he did know, was that he would keep eye on the former King in the North. Daenerys could be Queen, the Mother of Dragons and the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, but she was beneath all that a young woman, who perhaps for once wanted to love and be loved. Tyrion understood, but that didn't mean that he was going to let it happen.

It was not in their best interest for her to take council from someone as politically mindless as Jon Snow, he'd never shown ambition of anything and that mindset doesn't get you to win the Great Game.

The Game of Thrones.


	9. The Council

**_➿Jaehaerys➿_ **

"For the Watch"Stab.

"For the Watch" Stab.

"For the Watch" Stab.

"For the Watch" Stab.

"For the Watch" Stab.

"For the Watch" Stab.

"Olly..." he gasped.

"For the Watch." Stab.

He jerked away with a gasp of air. It was morning again and the same nightmare that hadn't plagued his mind for a little while made itself known once more.

"Jon Snow is the one who's dead." He reassured himself as he placed a hand over the scar on his heart to try to calm his breathing and racing heart. "You're Jaehaerys Targaryen, the third of his name, the blood of the dragon. You're not dead, you're alive and you will rise."

Daenerys' news haunted him all afternoon the day before and then his fear was shown again through his usual nightmare. A part of him is completely terrified of being killed again. He couldn't even believe that his own lords would plot to kill him. He knew that there would be discontent about bringing Daenerys and her armies North, but he never thought it could arrive to that. With whom would they even replace him? A voice inside of him whispered what he knew to be true.

'Sansa...'

He managed to calm down his rapid thoughts. It was early, barely dawn, but that didn't bother him. Today they would have another council meeting, as was instructed, every three days to check on the progress of the defenses. He hoped this meeting gives him something positive for him to concentrate. After not being able to get married the other morning thanks to Sansa and her pettiness, he needed some good news to lift his mood, before the dead come, that is.

He'd spoken to Daenerys about that when he'd visited her yesterday. They decided to postpone the wedding for the time being. Daenerys confessed she was feeling very discouraged by Tyrion's mistakes so far, and she wanted to see if after considering the discontent the northerners had, he would suggest the marriage himself. Jaehaerys thought that was a good plan, perhaps letting everyone in the North see for themselves that she would be the best queen Westeros could ask for before just marrying carelessly as they wanted to do, which could cause more discontent than the current one.

He got ready, and left his chambers. Strapping Longclaw as he went, although he'd like to be able to wear Darksister he knew it wasn't possible.

Yet... A voice in him whispered.

Jaehaerys headed towards the Great Hall, where he'd break his fast, he walked trough the rising courtyard, the servants who saw him bowing as he went. He entered the hall and took a seat at the High Table. 

Whenever he sat in the chair that should be the lord's, he would feel sadness, which then turned to bitterness after learning the truth of his birth. All his life Jon had been denied to sit in that very table with his siblings during feasts and celebrations. Every time he would think of the mistreatments he suffered, whenever he did sit with his family his portions were always less. If he'd given Robb a blow during training and Lady Catelyn saw it, his meals would be so salty he'd barely eat them.

Whenever he thought of this he'd be reminded of who he'd been. He'd been Jon Snow, Bastard of Winterfell, the child scorned by Catelyn Stark, the foolish man who'd been betrayed by his own men, the stain in the honor of Ned Star. Perhaps that's why he'd taken the news of his parentage so well. He didn't want to be any of those things anymore. He wanted to be what he'd been robbed of, for once Jon wanted to be the one who held the power. He was tired of being powerless and getting mistreated because of it. 

For once he wanted to be the better swordsman, for once he wanted to be not the bastard but the trueborn. 

At this his thoughts gave a turn and he saw Robb. His cousin, whom he'd loved as a brother his whole life. Yet his brother never truly saw him, Robb never had any competition when it came to Jon, because he would always let him be the best of the two. Robb, the best swordsman, the best in lessons, the best with girls... How could sullen, broody Jon Snow ever compare to the heir of Winterfell? In the inside Jon knew who was the better swordsman and who was the best in lessons, yet that was hidden from everyone. Sometimes even himself, sometimes he'd let himself think that Robb was actually better than him, just so he would feel better and his anger would rest. 

He was always ashamed to admit it, but Jon was jealous of Robb and everything he had. And it didn't have anything to do with his tittle as the next Lord of Winterfell, Jon never wanted to steal their birthright, he loved all his siblings. His jealousy was different, he was jealous of the love Robb had. Lord Stark always loved Robb better than Jon, of course now he really understood why, he'd never been his son, but he'd always thought he was and yet his father when they were alone never gave him compliments as he did Robb, never took him on a hunt just the two of them... but most of all, as much as Jon had hated her, Robb had the unconditional love of his mother. Jon never had and never would, his mother had always been dead. And so had his father.

'You can't be Lord of Winterfell, you're bastard-born. My lady mother says you can't ever be the Lord of Winterfell.' His brother loved him, this he knew was true, and yet not even he could see more than the bastard.

He took a shaky breath, and shook this thought away. That person was dead. Jon Snow was no more, from now on he would only be Jaehaerys Targaryen, King of the Seven Kingdoms, husband to his beloved queen Daenerys, the White Wolf, the Resurrected even. He wouldn't be the bastard anymore, he couldn't be. It wasn't fair to him or to his parents, and how he wanted to make them proud. 

Watching their deaths had taken a toll on Jae, he'd been so unsure of everything until he'd seen them himself, how they'd laughed and how they'd loved him even in the womb. The sight of them gave him a familiarity he'd never had before and he found out he quite liked it.

As Jae drowned away in his thoughts, he saw movement from the corner of his eye. Someone who only meant bad news.

The Spider.

_**➿Varys➿** _

"Good morrow, my lord. I didn't think I'd find you here this early. But for the better since I'd like a word if it pleases you." Varys greeted the broody Lord of Winterfell. His Valyrian gaze assuring him of what he wanted to discuss.

Varys believed himself an intelligent man, with many contacts and a whole net of information, yet no one ever found out what the good Eddard Stark had been keeping hidden from his brother at arms, Robert Baratheon. 

He felt ashamed he didn't figure it out earlier, Jon Snow looks like a version of the Dragon Prince with the Stark coloring, he'd knew the prince since he was a young boy, and then when sometimes he'd sit in for his father at the small council meetings, he'd have the same broody expression, with the new eyes it was more noticeable. He knew the kidnapping and raping was nonsense, but he never expected it had produced a bastard.

"Lord Varys." He replied curtly. "What do you need?" He went straight to the point. Varys allowed himself a small smile, as he sat next to him. "I thank you for your time." 

"I don't have much, so if you could skip the sugar coated words I'd be on my way." Jon Snow replied firmly. Varys raised his eyebrows in mock worry.

"Well, since you ask like that." He said lowly. "I was wondering, my lord, if you knew why you can ride a dragon?" Varys had learned to read people, after all that's a great asset when you play the game, but for more that he tried, his stoic face remained in place, as perfect as the queen's. No wonder they were related.

"I never knew my mother. My father never talked about her." He answered, his accent thick. "I don't know who she is." He sighed. Varys repeated the gesture. 

"That's a real shame, for a son to never know his mother." He replied, but his suspicions that he knew who she was grew with his answer. "Although I must say, now that you're older you don't look much like Eddard Stark. I had knowledge that you looked like him the most." 

He took a deep breath. "Perhaps is the eyes." 

"Perhaps..." he mused. "But you do remind of someone I knew." Jon stared at him intently and then he raised his eyebrows in question. 

"Do I? And who would this be?" He asked, his tone of disinterest only reassured him of his theory and about the fact that he knows about it.

"Rhaegar Targaryen."

His stoic expression didn't waver at the name, but his the hand that rested on the table fisted itself. Varys feigned ignorance to this, as he spoke again. "Your expression reminds me of the late Crown Prince, he too had an air of melancholy that followed wherever he went, and just like you his smiles were reserved for his children except yours are reserved for the queen." 

"You jest I suppose. Don't let anyone hear you comparing me to him in the North. He's not liked amongst northmen." He said curtly, Varys had to admit that the boy's ability to maintain himself expressionless was impressive. 

"I do know, his actions weren't well received amongst most people, yet I knew the prince was too much of a gentleman to rape the Lady Lyanna." He said and Jon finally let something slip through, realization. Varys was flying by now, it was only a matter of time before he could get it out of him. This secret was the most well guarded treason in the history of the Seven Kingdoms, and in his hands it would be information. He just needed to find out more...

Jon was pondering on what to say, he could see the swirling flames in his eyes as he thought, and for a moment Varys worried, not for himself, but for the realm. At the pace things were going they'd have two rulers with dragon blood, with a tendency to madness and two grown dragons at their disposal. If given the right council they could be the greatest monarchs the Seven Kingdoms had ever seen, but if the control of their rage fell from their hands, everyone would suffer the wrath of the dragons.

"Men can do stupid things when faced with difficult situations. Perhaps he was a good man and he committed something he wouldn't have before, but alas we don't know what went through the head of Rhaegar Targaryen all those years ago." That was his answer, and the way his words were precise and politically thought out, he never indicated that Rhaegar had raped Lyanna Stark, yet he never excused him of committing a horrible deed. Was Jon Snow always this cunning and he'd not noticed before now?

"Yes, well I'm sure some things are never what they seem to be. Some people include..." he mused out loud and Jon Snow didn't seem impressed at his attempt to draw him out. In fact Varys wondered if the King in the North was actually toying with him as dragon would his food, or if he was observing him and cornering him as a wolf would his prey.

"Indeed, sometimes we can find most unexpected things inside people we thought we knew, for example, you, Lord Varys." Varys sat aback at his sentence, he was expecting a contest with Jon, he didn't seem the type for this intellectual spar that Varys had grown so accustomed to in King's Landing. "No one would think a eunuch would be as dangerous as you, yet here you are, with your little birds causing havoc and learning everyone's secrets."

"Well I am the Master of Whispers, that is my job, I learn information to help our queen-"

"You learn information to help yourself first and foremost, my lord." Jon cut him off, leaving Varys perplexed. His expression was cold, but fire burned in his eyes. "We are done here, my lord. I'll see you at the council." With that the hidden dragon stood up and walked away purposefully.

"My, my!" Varys exclaimed to himself. Jon Snow was more of a dragon that he'd thought, and was much more cunning than he ever thought he could be. This conversation had left him with many questions and slight worries... Daenerys was reckless, impulsive and ruthless, yet Jon was careful, foolish and merciful from what he knew.

This Jon that spoke to him just now wasn't like that.

The man had rage bubbling underneath the surface, as fierce as the queen's, yet it was tempered by the ice of the North. This made him an easier target to control, for Varys, that and his Stark honor. Although he seemed to be embracing his incestuous Targaryen side, since Daenerys was his aunt and they seemed to be perfectly happy together, unless she didn't know yet...

He could use this to his advantage, he thought. The queen was a good woman, and Jon Snow was a good man, but dragons don't plant trees, they burn them. If Varys let them get married and reign together, their fire would bring the destruction of the realm, they were to strong together, uncontrollable.

He had to drive a drift between them, because although he would have liked one of them on the throne, he cant have both of them there. He must observe and scheme, he would begin his observation and with it he'd decide who to extirpate from the world after the dead were defeated.

No more would the good and innocent people of the realm be submitted to greedy and uncaring lords, kings and queens. He wouldn't allow it...

***

"The Night King is moving faster than expected and the Wall has fallen. He will be here in a week at most." The mood seemed to grow frigid with Brandon Stark's emotionless words. Varys sighed, he still had his doubts about all of this, but the missing dragon made it much more believable. What else could bring down a dragon?

"Are they ok?" Jon broke the silence everyone had fallen in. "Tormund? Edd? Beric?" He asked his brother with a crease of worry.

"They saw as a part of the Wall fell and they've ridden hard, they should be getting here in an hour at most, if their horses don't give out from the effort that is." The youngest Stark replied to the relief of the ex-King in the North.

"How are the trenches coming? And the training?" Tyrion as always couldn't keep his mouth shut for more than a minute. Grey Worm stepped forward ignoring the side glances the Westerosi gave him and spoke in his broken common tongue.

"Trenches are coming well, Unsullied can work all night if needed, and Unsullied also have offered training to soldiers but they all have refused."Varys sighed at this, the mistreatment of the former slaves and the Dothraki worried him, Westerosi are certainly petty people, if they shogun those who've come to help for no reason whatsoever.

Today's meeting on behalf of the northern houses was attended by Lord Manderly, the young Lord Umber, Lady Mormont and the scowling Lord Glover; Lord Royce was presenta on behalf of the Vale and Lord Edmure Tully on behalf of the Riverlands. (A/N: Edmure is here, because where the hell was he then? Chilling in Riverrun?)

All the Stark children were present as well, alongside Brienne of Tarth, Ser Davos and Jaime Lannister who had been allowed to give his suggestions, for the queen's advisors Greyworm, Missandei who also translated to the Dothraki commander Rakharo, Tyrion, and Varys. And obviously the most important of all of them, the two young monarchs that had gazes of equal intensity.

Varys could see the scowls of the lords at Greyworm's comment.

"Who is training the men who are not soldiers then?" Jon said, his voice firm and without room for intervention. Lord Manderly shifted on his feet, before speaking. "The men that have come from White Harbor have been helping when they can, your grace."

"My lord." Tyrion corrected. "He has bent the knee." The queen gazed at him in a strange expression.

"That is not important, my Lord Hand. I'm sure you can see there's things more important than the way someone is addressed. And actually I'd like to know of your progress on the alternative you suggested. Wildfire?" Queen Daenerys scolded Tyrion, and Varys suppressed his smile. She was very much in love with the ex-King in the North.

"Your grace, Lord Tyrion and I have been checking but I don't think we can get enough. Maester Wolken has some supplies and said he would be able to do some, but after the report on the Night King's progress I don't think we'll have enough time." Ser Davos informed her and Jon exhaled as he rubbed his forehead as if he had a headache from all these bad news. 

The queen frowned, "We'll have him make what he can." she said. "We may not have enough to fill the trenches but if we make catapults we may have enough to throw flasks at them and with the dragonfire the wildfire will help increase the damage, after all the wildfire's purpose is to burn everything in its wake." 

"Wait!" Jaime interrupted as if waking up for the first time in the whole meeting. "You want to use wildfire?" He asked, his expression worried. Varys had an idea why. The last time a Targaryen was using wildfire, he was killed by him. 

"Your brother suggested the idea." Jon told him and eyes him wearily. "Do you have a problem with it?" Jaime stared at him hard, Varys was sure the Kingslayer had arrived to the same conclusion he had. He would talk to him later. 

"Wildfire is a dangerous thing, your grace." He said this turning towards Daenerys. "Your father-" he cut himself off. He wanted to say something but he was... scared? 

"Yes, Ser Jaime, I know what my father did with wildfire, I think everyone in this room knows that he-" Daenerys was cut off by him exclaiming rather loudly. 

"No! You don't!" Jon had moved his hand to the pommel of his sword at his outburst. "No one knows what he wanted to do..." he noticed Lady Brienne had a soft look in her eyes, in empathy of the knight. Were they friends perhaps? Varys would find out later.

"Then tell us and apologize to the queen." Jon said with a murderous expression. Varys would be careful not to anger the man. Jaime could be seen as his chest heaved, trying to calm himself. His expression was haunted. "I apologize, your grace." Everyone observed him now.

"Burn them all..." he said. "That's what he said, you know. He kept saying it even after I had stabbed him. Burn them all... Robert can be king of the ashes, he said." A gasp escaped some people. He took a stabilizing breath and continued. "When the sack began, he told his pyromancer to burn them all. He wanted to burn King's Landing to the ground with wildfire. That's why I killed him, I had to make a choice between keeping my oath as a knight or keeping my oath as Kingsguard, but i couldn't let him kill half a million people." 

No sound was heard in the council room. Everyone had gone still, their expressions scared, Varys included. Had he really helped that monster stay longer in the throne by telling him of Rhaegar's plan to have a council in Harrenhal? He looked towards the queen who looked paralyzed, Jon Snow sported almost the same expression, if Varys wasn't sure before, now he was. He knew the truth about himself.

"If this were true, why didn't you tell anyone?" The girl, Lady Lyanna Mormont asked. She was fierce, being the first to recover from that. "And why tell us now?"

His usual demeanor came back and he scowled at her. "Oh right," he said mockingly. "when dear Ned Stark arrived, he had already judge me guilty, no one let me explain myself, just like now you don't believe me, no one would have believe an oathbreaker then over the most honorable man of Westeros." Everyone seemed to think about that. "And I'm telling you now, because wildfire is a bad idea. It gets out of control too quickly. It could do more damage than help." 

Silence fell again until, "I believe you." Came the voice of the queen. Quiet and not commanding, almost vulnerable. Jaime stared perplexed and she elaborated. "When I was in Qarth my dragons were taken by warlocks and when I entered their house I had a vision of King's Landing burnt to the ground. Only the Iron Throne was standing." The lord looked at her in disbelief, but Varys knew the dark magics of the East were no laughing manner.

"I believe you, Ser Jaime. And I thank you for your service to the realm. I know the usurper gave you a pardon, but you also have my forgiveness. You did the right thing and you shall be Kingslayer no more." Everyone stared at the queen incredulously, after all how could she forgive her father's murderer? Well, everyone except for Jon, who's gaze looked like a child who's just eaten a sweet.

"I agree with the queen." Came his voice next. "I always thought you were an oathbreaker, and in a way you are, but you saved everyone despite what would happen to you. I'm glad you've come to help us, Ser Jaime." Jon said, everyone still looked confused and conflicted about the confessions made. Jaime most of all, he had a strange expression as he stared at Jon Snow, Varys could observe. 

"But we could have an advantage with the wildfire..." Tyrion defended again, his voice low but firm. Daenerys stared at him and sighed. "Anyone has a solution?"

"What if we placed big casks over the battlefield and before they charge we shoot them with a flaming arrow?" Suggested Edmure Tully who most people knew had no real battle experience. 

"It could be dangerous for our own. I don't think using wildfire is the solution here." Jaime rebutted. Everyone still seemed perplexed by his confession and what followed from Jon and Daenerys, but no one said anything. "We will discuss this on the final council four days from now. Just before the dead are upon us." Jon dismissed the topic and the silence came back.

"Your grace," Varys spoke to get the conversation going after the contemplative silence. "I've been thinking that perhaps since this Night King is such a great threat, we should maybe evacuate the keep. Leave only those who can fight, and send the women and children south of Winterfell." Daenerys seemed to ponder on the idea.

"I believe you could be right, Lord Varys." She said, and some of the other lords strangely seemed to agree by the nods of their heads. 

"I agree, they could go to White Harbor, my granddaughters could house everyone while we fight here, and in case..." Lord Manderly stopped himself. "In case we fall, they could go to the East on the ships." Jon had an appreciative look on his face as he thought of the solution.

"Thank you for your offer, Lord Manderly. If everyone agrees then, let us prepare for the evacuation, I'd say for tomorrow we should begin." He explained and everyone replied with 'aye' in favor of the proposition. "Now going back to our battle plans."

"As we said the other day the Unsullied will be the first line of defense if they get pass the first lit trench. As the Unsullied hold them we should have the Dothraki come from the sides of the keep on their horses." He shared and everyone nodded at him as he moved over the map of Winterfell placing pieces.

"The Dothraki will try to circle the dead as they come and start eliminating them from the sides. They are able to use their bows while on horseback so they would do that as well." The queen added and Varys nodded along. The council continued on explaining how the northerners would cover the walls and the defense on the inside while the knights of the Vale, the soldiers from the Riverlands, the Wildlings alongside what remained of the brotherhood without banners that had come with Edmure Tully's small army, would be placed in the third line so if both the Dothraki and the Unsullied needed to retreat they'd cover them. More preparations and concerns were assessed, but as the queen was about to dismiss the council the doors bursted open with snow covered men. Varys recognized one of the three crazed look men. 

Beric Dondarrion, he knew.

"We were attacked. The Wall is down, king crow." The red headed wildling bellowed. Everyone stared at them as their chest heaved, they must be exhausted if they rode nonstop from Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. Jon gave him a grim look and nodded. "We know." His eyes moving to his brother, or was it cousin? Who stared ahead unemotionally.

"What are you doing here?" Came the voice of one Arya Stark. She had been awfully quiet the whole time when they discussed the plans, only nodding her agreement when they asked if she was ok standing in the ramparts with Ser Davos, the rest of the time her gray eyes were unnerving as they scanned the room and everyone in it. That intrigued Varys, what had happened to little Arya Stark? More than anyone could know he was sure.

Somehow Beric knew she spoke to him. Must be the hard, cold stare... "I've come to fight. What 'bout you? Little Lady." Everyone saw the exchange and all could deduce there was a history of animosity between these two. The title he gave her seemed to anger her more in a cool, collected and frightening way.

"I'm defending my home." She answered vaguely and moved her gaze around, doing a sweep of everyone's expression. "If you survive the dead, I will kill you for what you did to him." With that she looked at the queen and gave a small bow before passing the men at the door leaving a threatening air around the room. 

After that display Daenerys was quick to dismiss the meeting , and with some bowing and others just nodding, everyone was out, including himself, except for their newly arrived companions who spoke to Jon, Daenerys, Tyrion and Ser Davos in the council room about what had happened. Perhaps not to lower the morale? Varys thought they should have let everyone hear what they would say. He knew not many lords took Jon seriously on his story of a Night King and an army of the dead, he was one of such, but he knew that some part must be true for the how did the queen's dragon die? 

Varys walked towards his assigned quarters, but as he did he found his other confirmation to his suspicions; Jaime Lannister would know if what he believed was true. After all, he'd seen the man close enough to tell.

"Ser Jaime." Varys called out. The golden knight turned with a scowl on his face. "Spider." He replied, not slowing down his pace, he had to quicken his to walk beside the Lannister.

"I was wondering if we could speak. I have something that might seem most curious to you as it is to me." He told him. The Kingslayer kept his scowl on as he kept walking. The Unsullied trailing behind him. "I don't want to speak with you, Lord Varys." He said.

"Oh, but Ser Jaime, I'm sure I'm not the only who's noticed Rhaegar around." Varys told him, making him stop and finally look at him.

"I don't understand." Jaime told him. But Varys could read him, he did understand and he had thought about it too.

"I'm sure you do. After all no one knew the royals better than a Kingsguard. Am I wrong?" Varys taunted and Jaime exhaled deeply. "Not here."

"What you're implying may be treason and I don't like the idea of being at the end of Jon Snow's blade." Jaime said when they had entered a vacant room. The Unsullied hadn't left.

"Oh yes, and I certainly wouldn't like to stand in front of a dragon ready to burn me." Varys said sweetly. "But you and I both know that Eddard Stark was too honorable..." 

"You say he was honorable but he committed treason for more than fifteen years to his king and best friend." Jaime reminded him. Varys nodded."Yes, and this could be only if what we know of the rebellion was a lie. You and I know Rhaegar wouldn't have raped her." He said. 

Jaime sighed. "That's clear to anyone who knew Rhaegar." Varys nodded to this. 

"I think he is his son. The trick question is, is he a true born or a bastard?" Varys pondered. Ser Jaime rose his eyebrows questioningly. "You say he left Elia and married Lyanna?" 

"I say that Targaryens have had more than one wife." Varys said and Jaime turn around huffing. His flesh hand rubbing his face. "I don't know about that. What I do know is that Jon Snow is an uncanny copy of Rhaegar, now that his eyes are different. How no one ever noticed before escapes me." 

"Indeed, Ser Jaime." Varys got him to confirm what he wanted. That they indeed looked very much alike. "Well, I seem to remember you didn't want to speak with me, so I'll take my leave." The floor creaked as Jaime turned, he took a hold of his shoulder and stopped him from leaving. "You better not utter a word of this to anyone, Spider. I don't want to die from dragonfire."

"I'd never say anything that could hurt my queen." He told him as he shook him off and left through the door, into the cold air of the North. Varys walked awayand towards the balcony that overlooks the training yard. He never was one for combat, but he had a feeling Tyrion would be there.

And there he was, he stared as the men trained, but his eyes were focused somewhere else. His eyes were trained on Jon and Daenerys, they were speaking quietly, smiled on both their faces. Tyrion's face though, he was grimacing. Oh? Varys wouldn't have expected jealousy from him. What an interesting turn of events!

"My Lord Hand." He greeted. Tyrion didn't remove his gaze from the young monarchs. "Varys. What brings you here?" Varys looked down at him as he positioned himself beside him, his arms holding the banister. 

"I was actually looking for you." He answered nonchalantly. Tyrion didn't tear his gaze from them still but he sighed when they laughed together. "Do you think it wise for them to get so close?" He suddenly said and Varys felt himself smiling lightly.

"I believe there's no better match." He told him, finally making Tyrion tear his gaze from them. "And why is that? I thought it be too hard to get them both to listen to our council."

"I happen to realize that maybe the North would be more amiable to be loyal if they had one of their own as king." Varys answered, thinking his words twice. He could reveal what he knew to Tyrion, but since apparently he has a different sort of feelings for the queen, the secret could be dangerous in his hands. It should be dangerous only in Varys' own hands. Not anyone else's.

"And what brought this sudden realization?" Tyrion inquired further. Varys kept his usual expression as he answered. "I've seen some disrespect towards the queen and there might be a plot to eliminate her if my little birds are true, and usually they are." Tyrion did a double take at this, his eyes growing wide. Obviously the plot wasn't against Daenerys, but his little jealous friend didn't need to know that.

"How can you say that so calmly? Does the queen know? Does Jon Snow?" He threw question after question and Varys sighed as he waited for him to finish.

"Of course the queen is aware. And most certainly Jon is aware as well, however there is no proof of it yet. That's why I'm calm, my friend." He said. "My little birds will take care of it." Tyrion sighed and moved his hand through his hair in exasperation.

"Whatever are we to do with these headstrong foolish northerners?" Tyrion wondered aloud looking around hoping no actual northerner heard him. Varys shrugged and stared towards the retreating form of the young monarchs who's hands grazed each other as they walked side by side. He liked Tyrion, he truly did, but the fact that he seemed to be enamored by the queen would be a problem if she didn't pass the test of who was fittest to rule. 

"A marriage perhaps." He answered after moments of silence. He glanced down at Tyrion and placed his hand on his shoulder. "I will see you later, my friend." As he retreated Varys thought of all he now knew.

Jon Snow was clearly the son of Rhaegar and Lyanna, but was he a bastard still or had the prince left his Dornish wife for a Northern one?

Jaime Lannister was actually a hero and a tool he could use to his favor since he knew what Rhaegar looked like...

There was a plot to kill the former King in the North and he'd have to eradicate such thing before there were consequences...

Daenerys and Jon were a couple for the bards, showing equal power and regality as happiness and easiness... that was dangerous he knew, because that meant they wouldn't heed anyone's council if they had each other, much less his.

His little Lannister friend, Tyrion had apparently grown affectionate of the queen and now grew jealous by every glance, touch and laugh of the dragons...

Varys always prided himself by all he knew and this time wouldn't be any different, he would win the game of thrones no matter the cost, the good of the realm rested on his hands and he wouldn't let them down, even if it cost him his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! 
> 
> I wanted to thank you all for your kind comments, you have no idea how happy they make me every time I read them. Hope you liked this chapter too.
> 
> So now Varys knows... what do y'all think about that? And Jaime is Kingslayer no more. I was really mad about how Jaime's arc was thrown out of the Moon Door, so I think the fact that people finally know the truth will help him see that going back to Cersei isn't his only choice, and since only Bran knows he threw him down the tower no one isn't really mad at him. Yet...
> 
> Please tell me what you think and give me some feedback about Varys' P.O.V, I was nervous about not being up to the spider's level. I pride myself to be a skilled enough in getting what I want, but the real book Varys is too smart and cunning, so I don’t want to depict him stupidily. If you think it’s not up to his level please say so in the comments. 
> 
> Yours truly, Sofia.  
> Peace out. ✌🏻


	10. The Lions

**_➿Cersei➿_ **

"Has the Golden Company departed yet?" Cersei asked Qyburn, her designated Hand of the Queen. The man wouldn't be most people's choice as a Hand but he served his purpose well, total obedience and loyalty to her, with the added bonus of giving her Ser Gregor as a sworn sword and Kingsguard.

"Yes, my queen. I've been informed that the company has boarded the ships, they had some problems loading their elephants but they will be here in 3 moons at most." The man answered diligently. Cersei smirked to herself, she would crush the Targaryen whore's armies. "And the scorpions are coming out nicely as well, your grace. Two dozens have been made and mounted on the walls of the city."

"Good." She replied as she sipped her Arbor Gold, the sweet flavor filling her senses. She placed a hand on her belly, she would have her baby and she would be the queen of Westeros and no dragons or wolves would stop her. She was Cersei of House Lannister, the queen of the Seven Kingdoms, she would destroy Daenerys Targaryen and that bastard Jon Snow. How dare he deny to swear fealty to her because of the dragon bitch? Well knowing her she probably opened her legs to get the job of gaining his allegiance done. That's something she would have done.

"You're dismissed." She told Qyburn, who bowed and left hurriedly, his robes swishing as he did. Cersei walked towards the window that allowed her a view of King's Landing in plenty. The Sept of Baelor non existent thanks to her, and with it the Tyrells, the Faith Militant and the High Sparrow. She smiled and sipped her wine again, how she enjoyed watching as the pile of rubble was reduced slowly. She liked this view very much although the scent was as unpleasant as they come, the view of her city excited her and angered her at the same time, those commoners had shun her, they humiliated her, they threw feces at her and laughed at her misery.

If she could she'd blow all of them with wildfire, but then who would come and implore for her help, that she obviously didn't care about giving, but she was a lion and she liked to hear the sheep beg for her mercy. Cersei smirked to herself, but deep down she scowled too.

Jaime had left her.

How dared he? How could he leave her like that when he knew she was pregnant with their child? Jaime had always been the stupidest Lannister because for more that she'd like to deny it the little monster of her brother was pretty clever when he wanted to be. Although not clever enough against her... she still could be found chuckling as she thought of how he'd believed she'd send her armies to them, her enemies. She'd seen that thing jump right at her but they had their winged beasts, they could deal with it and when they came back she'd end them.

Perhaps she'd get the little bird again, keep her like those Dornish whores in her dungeons who'd killed her sweet and innocent Myrcella. She'd find good use for her, the girl would entertain her like she once did, always throwing herself at her dear golden cub. But even if Cersei had hated the Stark girl she'd never hated her as much as she'd hated Margaery Tyrell. The bitch had taken her last beautiful son from her, it was all her fault that she was now alone, her fault that they'd make her walk through King's Landing nude. The golden rose had paid and Cersei had had the last laugh about it.

Cersei walked away from the window and thought. She had her throne and her power, but she'd lost her treasures, her golden cubs, her children. But she wouldn't dwell on it any more than she already did, she had something to look forward to. A new babe... would it be a sweet girl with golden curls like her Myrcella or a boy kind like Tommen? Would she have another child cruel like her firstborn? Well, her secondborn, her firstborn son had been Robert's and Cersei hadn't cared much about the dark haired blue eyed babe, he'd been born of rape, how could she love a creature that had come to be like that.

She hadn't the heart to kill him then, she wouldn't kill a child with her own blood, so she'd found a whore who's babe looked much like hers, with the slight difference that the whore's baby was sick. Robert had shed a couple of angry tears then when the babe died and Cersei had had to will herself to cry as well. She'd never heard of the babe again, perhaps he'd been killed alongside Robert's other bastards by Joffrey, after all he'd been every inch of his father.

Cersei straightened and rubbed her hands over her belly that felt firm under her palm. _'I won't let anything happen to you my child'_. She thought to herself with a small smile, her only true smiles were reserved for her belly now, not even Jaime deserved them anymore. He'd left her all alone. He'd gone to fight with those Starks and the Targaryen bitch and the bastard and that blonde beast of a woman. Cersei wanted to scream and shout and destroy something from how much it angered her that he'd left her alone.

They were twins, they came to the world together and they were supposed to live and then die together. Why would he leave his soulmate? Did she do something wrong? She's only ever tried to protect them, fuck anyone who isn't them and their cubs, but even them left her. Now she's all alone, with only her little bean in her belly keeping her grounded. She's suffered so much and she isn't about to lose her last chance at love as well. She will protect her babe no matter the cost, and that stupid prophecy won't come true, ever...

_**➿Tyrion➿** _

Tyrion felt confused.

He wasn't used to feeling this way, ever. Tyrion was one of the smartest men he knew, and yet there was something he didn't know that was driving him crazy to know. Varys had some kind of information he flaunted around his face every time he could. It was frustrating and maddening. He couldn't take it anymore.

And the worst part was he wasn't even close to figuring out what it was, not that he wanted to try much anyway, for it had to do with Jon and Daenerys, two people he didn't want to think as the same subject in a sentence.

He knew they were making a mistake in keeping that relationship they had alive. It didn't make sense and Daenerys knew in the end she wouldn't have been able to marry him even if she wanted to. After all, he was a bastard and she was a queen. Not even a lord could stand a chance with the amazing Mother of Dragons and yet the bastard of Winterfell had her looking at him with hearts in her eyes.

How he did it, yes, Tyrion'd like to know that...

Jon Snow for all his bastard status was a comely man, 'pretty',as he knew people called him when he was young. With his luscious raven hair and his strong jaw, his dark eyes, although now he looked even better with the Valyrian eyes of the queen, he also had the body of a warrior and Tyrion knew he could never compete with him in looks, but as always, he'd had his mind, his most important asset. Because unlike Jon, Tyrion was a smart and clever man, not a northern fool who dove headlong into danger.

Like Daenerys herself had said, he wasn't a hero, and that perhaps was why she'd never love him, after all what had Drogo and Daario been? What was Jon Snow? Handsome heroes, tall and fair, ready to dive into battle and thrust their blade to defend their queen.

Tyrion didn't even own a sword.

He couldn't compete with the best swordsman of the Seven Kingdoms or with the Commander of a renowned sell sword company or with the Khal of Khals, he was just Tyrion, the Imp, the demon monkey... that's what he'd always be, even in comparison to a bastard, he was the second choice.

He had been walking for a while now, his conflicting thoughts swirling around in his mind, thinking about what he was missing too, what Varys and even Jaime seemed to know and weren't telling him. Looking over the full courtyard swarming with people getting ready to leave. It was for the best. Daenerys wasn't letting him fight but at least he was allowed to stay, as was Sansa who he would have thought her brother would insist more on sending away. Seems all siblings had their quarrels.

Tyrion's path was interrupted when he came face to face with the youngest Stark. Brandon, the boy who's mother had basically started the War of the Five Kings over.

"Lord Tyrion." The boy, now almost a man, said. Ever since he'd first seen him again, he'd been trying to stay away from him, his presence leaving a dark shadow over the room he sat in. "I see you're most conflicted about Lord Varys' discovery."

Tyrion paused at that and thought for a second. The boy had quickly explained to them as soon as they'd arrived that he was one powerful greenseer that saw everything, if he'd got that right. Perhaps it was true and he'd be able to tell him what it was. Hmm, Tyrion would use anything he could to his advantage, for the safety of his queen and just so he could see Varys' expression when he realized he knew the oh, so secret information about the King in the North too.

"Lord Stark. I can't say I'm not." Tyrion answered. "It has me at a loss for more that I put my mind to it. You wouldn't happen to know anything about it?" His words were measured and his voice low, although they were in a desolated part of Winterfell. Up in the ramparts.

"I know all." That was the answer he received before the unseeing expression settled even more heavily on him. "Do you wish to know? Are you willing to pay the price for this information?" Tyrion was surprised, what could the boy want for this information, he'd said it as if he'd had to give his life for it.

"I do wish to know, however, a wise man said not to ever accept a contract without reading the small writing in it, so, what is this price you ask for?" Tyrion could see his sentence had amused him.

"You do think you can fool people by passing your own thoughts as some ancient advice." He pondered. "Interesting." Tyrion felt uncomfortable under the youngest Stark's gaze, the boy gave him the chills, not at all related to the weather. And the reference to what his own Queen had said in Meereen was creeping.

"I'd only ask for you to keep in mind who's helped you, the rest will sort itself out." The way in which he expressed that sentence left Tyrion perplexed in a deep level he couldn't really explain because if he tried he'd probably back out from his offer, in a way he thought he felt as if he'd been making a deal with the Night King that Jon Snow claimed was evil incarnate, but that was nonsense, the young Bran may have changed but he wasn't evil for sure.

"Alright. That seems fair." Tyrion agreed. The boy in front of him gave him a look as close to a smile as he could probably manage.

"Jon is not really my father's son." Tyrion stopped for a moment, contemplating the words and before he could interrupt, the boy spoke again. "He is the trueborn son of Rhaegar Targaryen and my aunt Lyanna Stark, he is Jaehaerys Targaryen, he's Daenerys' nephew and the rightful heir to the Iron Throne."

Tyrion felt something he hadn't since he'd choked the life out of Shae... deep dismay, anger and most importantly disbelief.

Every part of him wanted to deny. 'No, he's not...' he wanted to say. Because if Jon Snow wasn't really a bastard then, there wasn't anyone better suited than him to marry Daenerys. Even more so if his claim was stronger.

Gods, they'd be invincible if they took the throne together... who's council would either of them heed to? They were both fire and blood, even though Jon's nature was hidden under the furs of a wolf and the ice of the North. Tyrion had heard the tales of what he'd done to Ramsey Bolton when he'd caught him, the people described the look on his face as if a demon had been let out of him. Now he realized it hadn't been a demon, it had been a dragon.

And he rode a dragon, he had ridden Rhaegal more than once with the queen, just the other day they had flown over Winterfell when he'd been talking with Jaime, who else could the queen marry if not him? A dragon rider on his own right, her nephew, the last of her family, a king both by choice of the people and birth.

"H-h-how?" Tyrion was a man who didn't stutter but with the magnitude of the biggest secret of the Seven Kingdoms, he could forgive himself.

"My father lied to save him from Robert's wrath." Bran replied. "Rhaegar's marriage to Elia was annulled and he and Lyanna married before the High Septon."

"This changes everything... Daenerys... does she know? Doesn't she know that she's not the rightful heir?" Tyrion was lost. He didn't know what to think, for the moment he was suspicious of Jon or was it Jaehaerys? He would betray his queen, take the throne from her, because no man would pass the opportunity to be king, even for the most beautiful woman. "I need to warn her... is this what Varys and Jaime are hiding from me?"

"That won't be necessary." Tyrion had started pacing but that stopped him in his tracks. "Daenerys and Jaehaerys have agreed to reign together." The almost sneer like expression that settled on his face looked like a plan of his had been foiled by that development. But Tyrion felt himself pale at the thought.

_'They'd be invincible if they took the throne together...'_

His earlier thought felt heavy in his mind. Tyrion for once had no clue about what all of this meant, what was he supposed to do? He didn't want them together for multiple reasons, one of those he still wasn't completely ready to admit, but the point was that now either they were together or they'd have another Dance of Dragons that could torn apart the reign. Tyrion didn't want that but most of all, he knew now more than ever that she wouldn't need him if she had Jon- Jaehaerys (gods, how weird it was to call the bastard of Winterfell by the name of the greatest Targaryen King).

"You're conflicted, I see." His chilly voice broke through him once more. Tyrion's green eyes snapped to his blue ones quickly. "You needn't be, you'll know what to do when the time is right." With that he wheeled his chair away from Tyrion. Leaving him more confused than he'd been in the beginning of their conversation.

_'You'll know what to do when the time is right...'_

But how will he know if now _isn't_ the right time?

**_➿Jaime➿_ **

Jaime was starting to believe the world had seriously something against him. He knew his life had been luckier than most, yet he found out more everyday that he was one unlucky man too.

What were the odds that he'd decide to do the right thing, come to Winterfell and fight murderous dead soldiers, yet manage to uncover and be slightly involved with a plot regarding the last son of his prince?.

Because if there was something Jaime was sure of, is that Jon Snow was Rhaegar's son through and through. He chided himself at the fact he hadn't noticed before when he'd taunted him as a green boy... he'd always been the stupidest Lannister after all. A part of him found it incredibly amusing that his smart little brother hadn't figured it out from all of Varys' constant hints and jabs. Perhaps there wasn't a stupidest Lannister but him, Cersei and Tyrion were just dense in general when it came to certain subjects.

Jaime had found himself wondering for some days now, what a man Ned Stark had truly been... 'the most honorable man, my ass' Jaime thought resentfully. How was it that no one ever found suspicious the appearance of that damned man with a bastard son shouting it at court to any who would hear? Wanting everyone to know it was his son not anyone else's...

Well, no matter wondering about it now, but he found himself incredibly annoyed by the fact that the man kept such a secret for so long and people never questioned his honor, while he had had to bear the burden of being the Kingslayer because the most 'honorable' man had condemned him so.

Ahh, the Kingslayer. The heavy epitome that would follow him all his life, even if it had never felt as lightas it had since that council meeting yesterday.

Jaime had been astonished with himself to have said it so openly and in front of everyone like that, some part of him telling him that they would somehow believe him. And so he'd said it, the truth both Targaryen heirs had been grateful to have heard. And Daenerys, oh the copy of his beautiful queen Rhaella had told him, _'You shall be Kingslayer no more.'_

Yes, Jaime was an unlucky man alright, with only one hand at that, but he was incredibly lucky to have been forgiven by the family he'd so wronged. The one he cared to be forgiven by, at least. The Starks had no intentions of forgiving him nor had he intentions of asking for forgiveness even if he knew he'd been wrong to cripple that boy or to attack the Stark patriarch in the streets of King's Landing, but he would utter no insincere apologies to the wolves, unless they were half-dragon.

With that in his mind, he found himself in the outer parapets of the once calm castle of Winterfell, the one that had once welcomed him still as an arrogant Kingsguard to a fat king and the lover of, for more that it pained him to think it, a monster.

The castle had changed much, it had been burned and depraved of its rough beauty by the Greyjoys and the Boltons. Yet it was the clamoring of swords, the noise and voices from those in the courtyard, the clanking in the forges and the retreating caravans full of women, children and elders going South that reminded Jaime of what was soon to come upon them all.

Oh, and of course the Queen's Armies and dragons helped to remind him of it too.

Looking at the snow covered North, Jaime heard someone approaching. He turned and saw the intense gaze of Rhaegar Targaryen's son, a white direwolf walking beside him. Jaime immediately bowed, earning a nod in acknowledgement. "Ser Jaime."

"Your grace." Jon Snow's purple eyes twinkled slightly at that and a small smile appeared on his face at his words.

"I bent the knee." Jaime nodded at that although he still wasn't sure if he was Rhaegar's trueborn son, he had the appearance and presence of what a king should look like, and anyway the man had a dragon at his command. He wouldn't dare disrespect him. "Although you know that."

"I do." Jaime wondered if he knew. He had the high suspicion that he did. "And I knew your father." His friendly gaze suddenly turned cold, the wolf stood at attention at his side. He walked closer towards Jaime.

"Of course you did. You were one of the last who saw him alive in King's Landing." He voiced the truth without confirming which father he meant. If his uncle or his sire. That green boy he'd mocked outside the forge had changed indeed. Jaime nodded.

"I swore I would protect his family too. But I failed, his children died anyway. Your brother and sister." Jaime confessed and Jon's gaze softened, even if just one centimeter. He now stood beside him, looking towards the people passing through the queen's camps, on their way to White Harbor, the gaze he bore was the same Rhaegar would have and Jaime's heart clenched at the familiarity. "He used to brood just as you, your grace. An air of melancholy went with him no matter what he did."

"Aye. Varys told me something of the sorts." The king admitted. He turned to look at Jaime who was already staring at him. "How did you know?" Jaime let out a breathless chuckle, not sure if it was out of nervousness or amusement.

"You're an uncanny copy of him if he'd had Stark blood. Your face, it's long like the Stark's, but is more graceful than your sister's, your expressions and your hair is as lucious as his, you're a northman, but let's be serious, no northman is as pretty as you, your grace." They both chuckled at that. The king nodded amusedly.

"I hated when people called me pretty. They would mock my 'pretty' hair." He chuckled at that, his eyes intense as they shone with memories. "All my life I felt like an outsider in what was supposed to be my home. Always looking for something and never finding what it was." Jaime was surprised at this confession. "When I was a little boy I prayed to be called Stark, I'd ask the gods to have my father name me his trueborn son. When I realized that would never happen I started looking for something else, to bring honor to him through the Night's Watch... that didn't turn out well either. All my life I've just been trying to find my place, trying to accept I was just the Bastard of Winterfell, trying to be more than that, I-" he inhaled deeply. "I never fit in with this people. I am a northman aye, but I'm also a Targaryen, and I know that now."

Jaime didn't know what to say. That had gone from an easygoing reminiscing to a full out confession. "I'm sorry, your grace. But from what I've heard you've done great things, you should be proud. I know Rhaegar would be proud of you."

"That's what Daenerys says. I hope you're both right. I spent all this time resenting him for believing he'd raped my aunt, just to find out I was their son, their trueborn son at that, quite a shock if you ask me." Jaime felt his eyes widen, their trueborn son... he was the true heir to the Iron Throne.

"Do you know what they named you?" Jaime didn't think for a second his prince would name his son Jon. He may have been good friends with Connington, but that was too simple a name for a Targaryen. His slight smile let him know he was right.

"Jaehaerys Targaryen. Quite a change from Jon Snow." Jaime barked a laugh. Oh, if Varys knew... wait, that reminded him...

"Varys knows." He blurted out. The king's gaze settled heavily on him. Cautious. "I thought you should know. If I know the spider he will try to use this to his advantage wether it is to help you or to use against you." The light smirk on his face told him he already knew.

"I am well aware, as is the queen. But for now Varys is a necessary evil. Tell me, does he know I'm a trueborn? Or does he suspect I'm his bastard?" Jaime nodded at Jon's response.

"He is not sure." Just now Jaime had noticed the wolf walking behind them all over the parapet. Jaehaerys nodded. "We shouldn't be talking so openly of this. His little birds are everywhere."

"That's what Ghost is for. No one would risk the wrath of a direwolf."

Jaime smiled at that and said,"Or a dragon."

He nodded. "Or a dragon." A shadow passed over and Jaime looked in awe at the jade dragon that flew over Winterfell, letting out a roar. "Rhaegal agrees it would seem." The beasts were frightening but beautiful, their scales shown against the reflection of the white snows.

"Your grace, I'd like to warn you to be careful... the people are restless in Winterfell, wether it is because because of her grace's presence or because of the threat to the north, I do not know, but there are those who would see you dead I'm sure. You must be careful." Jaime thought that the warning was probably unnecessary, no one knew what he faced better than the man himself, but he owed it to Rhaegar to protect his last remaining child. The son who's mother he had risked everything for.

"I thank you, Ser Jaime." He said with a thoughtful look. "And that's why I'd ask something of you." Jaime nodded immediately.

"Anything."

He smiled at that, very subtly but a smile nonetheless. "I would name you a knight of the Kingsguard." Jaime felt his eyes widen. He couldn't be serious... was he kidding? He had to be... "when my identity is revealed clearly."

"I-I how-how could you want me in your Kingsguard?" Jaime sputtered out. He was more than shocked. He didn't have a word strong enough for it. At least right now he couldn't find it. 

"Because I'd ask of you to do what you did to my grandfather if I become like him." Jaime looked deep into his eyes of violet and saw complete seriousness there. "I do not want to become that, and you've proven to be a person who knows how to chose what is right even in difficult situations, even at your own lost if these last decades are any indication."

Jaime was... flabbergasted. That was the word he'd been looking for.

"So, what say you, Ser Jaime?"

He grabbed a hold of himself and answered him. "It would be my pleasure to be part of your guard, my king."

The king smiled and called his direwolf with a look. The furry animal coming to stand beside him. "I've enjoyed our conversation Ser Jaime, you will have to tell me more about him and Daenerys would like to know about her mother, if you would."

"Of course, your grace." With that the king nodded and with a look left Jaime standing there, feeling very much like he was floating up to a happy place.

He'd just earned the forgiveness of his prince's last trueborn son...

The people leaving Winterfell in the background, the plot against him that Jaehaerys had told him about, the Spider and his schemes, not even the White Walkers themselves could have ruined his cheerful mood as he walked with a spring in his step down to the training yard.

From high up in the ramparts, he saw a flash of pale, short, blonde hair, and he felt a smile pull at his lips.

Brienne.   
  
Yes, maybe he really could redeem himself for all his past sins.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I'm well aware this chapter is shorter, however we needed some development from other P.O.V's, I struggled with these three complicated siblings, but the Jaime & Jon friendship head cannon is one of my favorites. I just feel like they would have been good friends, if you are like me, read The Dragon's Roar, it's an ongoing story and it's one of my favorites although it's a Jonerys slow-burn.
> 
> Again, I'm sorry for the wait, as I said I struggled with the Lannisters, and my new and current Lord of the Rings' obsession wasn't helping either. But finally I managed to complete it in a fairly good way. 
> 
> Thank you for staying with me through this story and I hope to get out the next chapter soon, if it takes me a while just know that it was Tolkien's elves' fault. 
> 
> Ps: Jaime says something about Jon that's a reference to what Jon thinks the first time he sees Jaime in the books. Hope you know what I mean 😉
> 
> Thanks for all the feedback and encouragement. 
> 
> Peace out ✌🏻


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